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olivia200312 · 4 years

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Valentine's Love~ TFP! Optimus x Human! Reader (Lemon) *Request*

Requested by the lovely @Tianna814193.

Plot: Optimus hears of Valentine's Day for the first time and learns more about what it is thanks to the kids. He wants to do something special for Y/N so he took her to a special place and made love to her ;)

There was no plot nor which Optimus version so I had to choose.

Npte: the art goes to the onwer!

Head area: Brain: Processor / Brain Module Head: Helm Face: Face plate Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor Eye brow: Optical Ridge Eyes: Optics Mouth: Intake Lips: Dermas Teeth: Denta/Dentas Tongue: Glossa

Chest area: Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour: Chest plate Back plate Mid-section plating Neck guard Side plating

Arm area: Arms: Arms / Restarlueus Forearms: Bitarlueus Hands: Servos Fingers: Digits

Arm armour: Gantlets Shoulder pads Arm guard

Lower area: Pelvis: Pelvis Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate Thighs: Tibulen Calves: Cadulen Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour: Skirt plates Aft plate / Skid plate Thigh guard Ankle guard

General/Internal components: Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question. Veins: Fual lines Stomach: Tanks Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating. Heart: Spark Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

-----------------------------------------------------

Today was a snowy day in Jasper Nevada. Surprised, right? Usually, it's freaking hot and warm there since it's like... deserted place. Kinda like in Africa, Egypt. But don't get fooled! Weathers can change there too. Have you been ever to Alaska? It's tough to know when it's in fact night. Why? The occurrence takes place each winter because of the tilt of the Earth's axis. "This tilt makes it so that none of the Sun's disc is visible above the horizon," according to Chinchar. But that doesn't mean the town will be completely dark. It's also not always winter there like how you saw in the movies.

So, it's February 13th... one day away from the official Vantine's Day. It's a day where you give your loved ones presents, to show love to them. You can give presents to your family and friends. It can be candy, cards, plushies, etc.

Y/N was 18 and she was at her house. She sadly doesn't have time to hang out at the base. She got a lot of work to complete so she texted Miko, saying that she doesn't have time to hang out today.

At the base~

"Oh come on!" Miko groaned while throwing her hands up in the air, making her pink phone go flying and land on the couch.

Jack looked at her while Raf was listening while working on his laptop. Some bots were listening as well while others like Ratchet were busy. "What's wrong, Miko?"

"Y/N doesn't have time to come hang out in the base! Tomorrow is Valentine's Day!"

That caught every bot's attention, especially Optimus'. Once they all looked at the kids and Miko quickly noticed that every bot is staring. "What?"

"What's this 'Valentine's Day', Miko?" Optimus asked while walking over to the kids.

Jack looks surprised. "You bots don't know what Valentine's Day is?"

"On Cybertron, we don't celebrate holidays," Arcee said while her arms were crossed.

"Well, Valentine's Day is a day where you give gifts to your loved ones. Like to your family, friends, especially to your lover. It's also when someone confesses their love to their crush," Raf explained.

"And what gifts can you get?" Bulkhead asked.

"Oh, different things! You can get like candy, plushies, cards, prepare romantic dates, and much other stuff!" Miko answered with a big smile.

Optimus couldn't help but be interested. He's in love with Y/N ever since he met her. It's just... her beauty and especially her kind personality caught his attention. He offered to be her guardian and his spark beat happily when she said yes. She accepted the offer. But oh boy, he didn't know that Y/N is in love too with the handsome, kind leader.

But of them didn't know that they'll be extremely sexually active like... they're both in the hard mood to do 'it'. It's normal when you are a couple but it's very important to be careful. Both of them won't admit to anyone but they both had wet dreams about each other more than once. Yeah... if they both showed signs or accidentally told it out loud, then they'll be so embarrassed (my best friend, who's a guy, admitted once to me in the school bus that he had a wet dream about a girl once).

"If you don't mind, will you explain more?" Optimus asked.

The kids nodded and they explained more. They even told me how it started. Optimus was thinking this whole time about how to confess his love to Y/N. He has no idea that he'll be sexually active right on Valentine's Day. His spike will be hard, begging to go inside of Y/N. Crap, he's getting naughty thoughts again. That's when Optimus has a plan...

The next day~

When Y/N woke up, she got dressed and brushed her teeth. She was surprised when Bumblebee picked her up instead of Optimus. The leader told everyone his plan to confess his love to Y/N, except for the naughty thoughts. He's having a lot of trouble keeping his voice under control. He's sexually active, needing to have sex. His spike is sure very hard behind his codpiece. Luckily, no one suspected a thing.

When Y/N arrived at the base, Ratchet told that Optimus was at the beach in the wooden cabin. Wait, how can he be inside since the wooden cabin is.. small? Welp. Only one thing to find out. Y/N went through the groundbridge when it was activated. When Y/N arrived at the beach, it was very breathtaking:

Y/N pinched herself to see if she wasn't dreaming. It was all real. Y/N then felt... hot. She couldn't help but let out a small moan. She quickly controlled herself and saw the wooden cabin. Once she opened it and went inside, she saw a big white bed, covered in beautiful rose petals. Even some candles were on to make it even more romantic, curtains closed.

Y/N smiled brightly. Optimus loves her. She knew it now. She then heard metallic footsteps and she turned around to see the love of her life, except he's small! Y/N's mouth was open in shock while her eyes went wide.

Optimus chuckled and gently closed her mouth with his digit, but never left her face. He gently cupped her face with his soft, gentle servos and kissed her with passion. Y/N let out a surprised moan but she kissed him back. She slung her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. The Prime moved his servos to her waist and pulled her closer. Y/N couldn't help but let out a loud moan, especially since her private part was overheating and throbbing.

She pulled away embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry, Optimus. I... I just have a problem."

Optimus showed a gentle, kind, loving smile. "I know, sweetspark. I've read your body language." He then felt a little embarrassed. "I have the same problem with my spike."

Y/N felt confused at first until it clicked fast. His penis was hard. Spike is... you know. So, both of them have the same problem. But Optimus doesn't want to force his beloved since he's not that kind of a bot. As Orion Pax, he was shy, kind, quiet, overworking, helpful, respectful, and gentle. But now as Optimus Prime, he's stern, calm, strong, smart... So, he has kinda two sides. But there's still Orion Pax in him if you pay close attention to him. Ratchet told the story of who Optimus was before he became a Prime. The kids found it interesting, especially Y/N.

Y/N looked up to meet his optics. "D-Do you mind if we help each other. Clearly, our bodies want... you know."

Optimus doesn't respond, instead, he slammed his dermas on her lips. He backed her gently until she fell on top of the white bedsheets. At least the rose petals were soft. He climbed on top of her and looked into her eyes, asking for permission. Y/N nodded and started to touch his chassis, causing Optimus to purr.

Some time passed by and Y/N was fully nude underneath the leader. She already has love bites around her neck. Optimus' optics was full with lust as his one digit entered her heated core. That caused Y/N to gasp and moan. "A-Ah! That feels so good! Please more!~"

Optimus granted her wish and added another digit inside of her. He moved inside of her, feeling her walls tighten around his digits. He's smirking inside. When he felt her orgasm, he pulled his digits away, causing Y/N to whine.

Y/N shot her eyes open when she heard a clank on the wooden floor. She saw his private member. His spike. "It's so big!~" That caused Optimus to look flustered and watched her as she used her hand to grab his spike and gently started to stroke it. Optimus moaned as his member twitched. Y/N stroked faster until Optimus shot his transfluid. It landed on her chest and stomach area. Y/N sill looked seductively and giggled.

Optimus was surprised by the next act.Y/N lifted her legs up, and opened her heated core with her fingers, inviting Optimus to go in. Optimus then prepares and lined his spike right at her pussy.

"Please put in!~"

Optimus smirked and went inside of her. He immediately grunted as the warmth and tightness greeted his spike. Y/N immediately moaned and instead of pain, she felt pleasure. Pure pleasure. She panted and moaned louder. "A-Ah, so good. Give all of you, Optimus. F-Fuck me so hard until I can't walk!~"

Optimus smirked and rammed into her. That caused Y/N to scream, moan and talk dirty. Like, really dirty talk. She couldn't help it! Her legs and arms are wrapped around him. "O-Oh, yeah! Yeah! H-Harder! I'm close!"

"As you wish, my dear.~" Optimus smirked and rammed even harder.

Y/N felt her G-Spot being hit many times that she saw stars. She was just so in love, lost in pure pleasure... That's when she felt her orgasm. She screamed Optimus' name in pure bliss as he shot his transfluid inside of her. It was warm and sticky. Optimus stayed inside of her for almost a minute before pulling out. Some of his transfluid dripped down into the sheets. Both him and Y/N felt much better.

"T-That was amazing, Optimus."

Optimus smiled lovely as he laid down next to her and pulled her closer. He held her protectively. "It was, sweetspark."

Happy Valentine's Day!

#optimus prime x reader #optimus prime #x reader #human reader #valentine's day #lemon #tfp #transformers #tf #transformers prime

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namfine · 5 years

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Payment in Full

⫸ pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

⫸ word count: 3k

⫸ summary: After rescuing a strange man from being attacked by Robo-bots, the price you demand as payment is one he is all too eager to pay.

⫸ tags: 18+, smut, choking, spanking, deep throating, pounding, oral sex (fem and male receiving), foreplay, safe sex, rough sex, one night stand, light dirty talk

⫸ a/n: Whattup, Admin Zesty here! For my first post I wanted to delve into one of my favorite aesthetics with one of my favorite people~ I hope you all enjoy it!

- ☆.｡.:* Zesty .｡.:*☆

“We don’t have to do this, y’know.” The man’s lips brushed your ear, making coherent thought nearly impossible. You were standing in a dimly lit room, sparsely furnished save for a simple old bed and decrepit dresser. The only light came from three old wax candles scattered throughout the room, and the exposed window on the western side that boasted quite a stunning view of the skyline. It could almost be deemed beautiful from this distance. Namjoon (or at least that’s what the man said his name was) had wrapped himself around you from behind and was lathering your neck with lazy, gentle kisses.

“I want to.” You responded, twisting yourself around so that you were facing him, hands spread on his wide chest. You ran them over his toned arms, careful to avoid his wounds, before wrapping your arms around his neck. Arching your back and balancing on your tippy toes, you reached to cover his mouth with your own.

Namjoon responded with equal fervor, chasing your lips like a swimmer to oxygen. Before you knew it, he deepened the kiss and you found yourself clawing at his clothes, his hands roaming over your body to cup your ass, wanting, needing. You were aching to feel something, anything, other than the familiar worry and frequent despair that clouded your senses on a day to day basis. Everyone’s senses. It was, after all, a rough time to be alive

A terrifying time and yet, here you were in some mystery man’s hovel seeking the only distraction from the world you could still afford - meaningless sex with a stranger. Well, kind of a stranger. You did save his life after all. He owed you one.

And it seemed he was eager to pay.

“Condoms?” You asked. Babies were out of the question. You could barely feed yourself.

Namjoon nodded and pulled a small foil package from the beaten down dresser. “Covered.”

You were pushing him now, herding him towards the old mattress on the ground with only a stringy old comforter and some worn pillows. When Namjoon’s legs hit the bed he crumpled back, pulling you down to straddle him. Your heads bumped in the process, and you let out a pain filled groan. Namjoon broke the kiss to pull back and rub his forehead, letting out a soft “Ow.” You barked out a laugh and sat back on his thighs, looking down at his smug grin. .

“So, Y/N,” He began, testing your name on his tongue. He propped himself up on his elbows so that he was closer to your face. “Thanks for the help back there. I literally didn’t think I would make it out of there alive.”

He wouldn’t have. You knew this.

He tenderly touched a bruise that was forming on his jaw. “Damn police bots have really gotten high tech these da-- shit!” He hissed, pushing too strongly on the wound. You grinned back down at him and his eyes flicked back up to meet yours. “So, you do this often?”

He smiled at his pick up line and you felt your heart melt. You were honestly just happy to be getting some dick and couldn’t afford to be picky, but goddamn did you get lucky. He was beautiful.

You smiled before reaching out a hand and tracing the lines of his jaw, careful to avoid the bruises he had gotten from the bots before you arrived. “Definitely not. Haven’t come across many viable options in the apocalypse. Definitely not any as handsome as you.”

Before you could react, his brow crinkled, revealing a sly smile, and he flipped you both over so that he was covering you with his body. You barely got out a surprised yelp before he dropped down to give you a tender kiss. You opened your mouth, instinctively deepening the kiss and granting him access to your tongue before quickly nipping on his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth. Payment for the flip. Namjoon groaned into your mouth and ground his pelvis down onto yours, gently rolling his hips into you. “Want to play dirty, huh? I’m gonna need you to calm down, little girl.”

You rolled your eyes as you moved to reach for his shoulders, aiming to push him off and regain control.

“Ah, ah.” Namjoon swatted your hands away, using the weight of his body to pin you to the bed. “I think you’ve been bossy enough this evening.”

You wiggled your body beneath him, but Namjoon continuously ground himself down into you, creating a rhythmic pace that had your thighs clenching together and your pussy pulsating. You could feel the thick form of his cock pressing into your pelvis, already hard, as he struggled to control your movements and keep up the pace. He leaned down to press firm kisses down your neck, your collarbone. One of his massive hands slid up your body and gripped your clothed breast. He massaged it roughly between his fingers, and you lurched up into his touch, loving the feeling of another person’s hands on your body for what felt like the first time in forever.

Namjoon continued his assault on your neck and breast as his other hand worked to open the buttons on your shirt. In a matter of seconds, he had undone them all with surprisingly deft fingers. He finally loosened his hold and lifted his body enough for you to scoot out from under him and sit up. It was a joint effort but in a few minutes, there you both sat, naked save for your underwear.

Namjoon’s fingers traced the lines of your body, his eyes soaking it all in. You had no clue how you looked, fresh from a street fight and months of malnourishment. Your sensitivities, your scars, your blemishes. He observed them all and didn’t flinch.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, reaching out to trace the curve of your hip bone. He took it all in - accepted it.

Your eyes soaked him in as well, admiring the lithe muscles of his body and the marks from his earlier tussle. He looked relatively unharmed save for some abdominal and facial bruising, and a few scratches that you made a mental note to clean later. Honestly, he was the picture of the perfect male physique. You felt yourself grow wetter.

The desperation from earlier seemed to have been released from both of you as Namjoon crawled across the mattress, taking your face in his hands and pulling you in for a surprisingly tender kiss. His lips were slightly chapped and there was a bit of swelling on the lower one from a punch, but you didn’t mind. You melted into his embrace, happy, safe. He laid you back down on the mattress and placed gentle kisses down your body, pausing at your breasts. He took each one into his warm mouth, paying special attention to each nipple. He tugged gently with his teeth before swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip. You groaned at the sensation, fingers curling into the dirty comforter. You could feel his smile at your response and he proceeded down your body, hands quickly replacing his mouth.

Namjoon peeled your soaked panties off your form and when his lips met your soaked pussy, you could have screamed. Could have, but didn’t, catching yourself as you remembered that this was not a safe place. You were sure the bots were still searching the city for you both and these were desperate times. People were eager to turn each other in for some extra cash. Better no one knew you were there at all.

The thoughts were quickly brandished from your mind as Namjoon licked up your slit and moved to your clit. Your hand found purchase in his shaggy hair and you tugged, a breathy moan escaping your lips. Namjoon took the sensitive nub into his mouth, sucking and pulling while one hand still worked your breast. He growled at the pressure on his hair as you hold tightened and resumed his assault on your soaked pussy, plunging his tongue in and out of your hole.

You were on the brink, ready to explode and Namjoon intended to give you just that. He increased the pace, bringing a hand to massage your clit and in a few second flat you felt the pressure building.

“Namjoon, I- I’m going to-” You gasped, writhing beneath him.

He continued the assault and you boiled over, your orgasm wracking through your body in waves. Namjoon worked you through it, gently massaging your clit and softening the plunges until you were finished.

He pulled back and you shivered at the lack of contact. You looked down to find him staring intently at you, head between your legs, your juices on his lips.

What a pretty sight.

How did I get so lucky?

Namjoon didn’t move and finally curiosity got the better of you. “What is it?”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your mound, running his hands up your thighs. “I just, I want to remember this moment. Remember you.”

“Oh, pretty boy, you’re not gonna have any trouble remembering me.” With that you released your grip on his hair and sat up, edging yourself lower on the bed. You pushed Namjoon gently, your intent obvious, and he rolled himself onto his back. The thick curve of his cock was visible through his briefs and it was all you could do not to grab it right then.

Leaning over him you kissed his pelvic bone, giving it a sharp nip that extracted the most delightful gasp from your victim. Your hands massaged circles onto his chest working lower and lower before finally allowing yourself to palm his cock through his underwear.

“Oh, god,” Namjoon groaned, hips flexing upward, his head falling back against the wall. “That feels amazing.”

“It’s about to get even better,” you promised, pulling at the band of his underwear. You tugged it down his massive thighs, letting his cock spring free. It was an impressive length, nothing extraordinary, but it was beautiful, just like the rest of him. You ran your fingers over it gently, teasing him. Namjoon groaned when you finally took him into your hands and gave him a few short pumps, before loosening your hold and working him with your hands, feeling him growing firmer and larger beneath your grip.

“I think . . . this is . . . the best thing . . . that has ever happened to me.” Namjoon panted, beads of sweat lining his forehead as you worked your hands up and down his cock. “I should get arrested more often.”

Well, if he liked that. . .

The second you started pressing soft kisses to his throbbing cock, you knew you had died and gone to heaven. The noises that Namjoon made were some of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. He was trying to keep quiet, trying to muffle his little groans but the few that got through made you crave nothing more than the feeling of him filling you to the brim. Knowing you had elicited such groans and soft pants from such a strong man- god damn.

You took his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip, before slowly taking him further. In a few short minutes you had him clawing at your hair, pawing at the mattress, as he struggled to control his natural instinct to thrust up into you.

Good thing you were here to break that instinct.

You opened your mouth further, ignoring your gag reflex, and took him even deeper until you felt him hit the back of your throat.

“Jesus c-christ. How d-did you . . . ?” Namjoon stutterd.

You worked him in and out of your mouth, increasing your pace and you felt him tremble below you, losing control.

“Fuck this,” Namjoon reached out and gripped your head, holding it into place as he began to thrust eagerly into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. He let out a few breathy groans as he increased his pace, your fingernails digging into his thighs, eyes watering, but focusing on hollowing your cheeks to give him the best experience.

You could feel Namjoon growing close as his pace began to sputter out, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper when abruptly- he pulled out.

“That’s enough of that,” Namjoon pushed you over roughly so that you lay on your belly. He gripped your ass, raising it into the air and took a second to admire the view, running his long fingers around your curves and down your slit before inserting two into your entrance and curling them inside. You moaned. “When I cum, it’s going to be inside you.”

He took his time, slowly plunging his fingers in and out of you with one hand and stroking his length in the other. When he was ready he wrapped his arms around your middle and lifted you up so that your back was flush against his chest, his cock the only thing between you. You had no clue where he pulled it from but you heard the unwrapping of the condom and in a few seconds, he was ready.

“I’m about to fuck you so hard, baby girl,” he whispered hoarsely into your ear. “But you better promise to be a good, quiet girl for me. Can’t have you bringing the cops down on us again.”

Namjoon released one hand to line himself up with your entrance and his other hand massaged smooth circles into your abdomen. His breath, hot on your neck. You tried to back into him, to force him to work faster but all that earned you was a chastising noise and a harsh smack on your ass.

“Ah, ah,” Namjoon said. “I haven’t heard your promise yet.”

“Namjoon . .. . “ You groaned, grinding your ass back onto him. You could feel his dick. It was literally right there. But it wasn’t where you needed it to be.

“Say it.” Namjoon demanded, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. “Say it and I’ll give you what you want, baby girl.”

“I promise,” you breathed, not able to fully eliminate the whining in your tone. “I promise to be quiet.”

Namjoon released your earlobe and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, rolling his hips into your ass again so you could once again feel how hard and ready he was for you, before giving you another harsh smack on the ass. “You promise to be quiet, what?”

“I promise to be quiet for you, Daddy.”

He groaned at the pet name. “That’s a good little slut.”

When Namjoon finally pushed into you it was all you could do not to scream. If there was any survival instinct left in your brain at that moment, Namjoon possessed it as his hand immediately reached up to cover your mouth. Screaming, would mean death and thank god one of you remembered that. His other hand traced back up the front of your body, to find your neck, and he squeezed down ever so slightly, choking just a bit of air out of your lungs before he began to move. Pulling out slightly, and gently moving back in. Testing the waters.

God, did he feel good.

“You like that, dirty little girl? You like the way I feel inside you?” His voice was hoarse in your ear as he struggled to move slowly. His natural instinct was to pound into you until he reached completion but- patience, he felt, was one of his best virtues.

You nodded, grinding back onto him, eager for more. The fill of him inside you was so perfect, so complete, like a piece of you was missing this entire time. Namjoon, getting the message, pulled out and this time slammed back into you harshly, tightening the hold on your throat.

“You like that? You like the way I destroy your pussy?” He grunted, setting a relentless pace, smacking in and out of you creating the lewdest of noises. The only thing keeping you upright at this point was the hand around your neck, choking the air from your lungs. Each thrust was punctuated by a harsh grunt from Namjoon that had you quivering, chasing your next release.

Namjoon tightened his hold around your neck as his pace began to get sporadic and released his hand on your mouth so that he could rub frantic circles onto your clit, helping you along. You whispered his name like a prayer as he pounded into you, chasing his release but still working his finger for yours.

When you came, you came hard, your pussy clenching around his dick furthering his pleasure, milking him thoroughly. You were still in the blinding throes of orgasm when you felt him clamp down on your shoulder, thrusting even deeper inside you and crumpling over your body, throwing you on to your hands and knees as he found release deep inside you, his body shuddering with each wave. He groaned through his orgasm, thrusting even deeper with each pulse.

When he was spent, he rolled you both onto your sides, slowly pulling out but holding you close to his chest. For a few minutes, you both lay there in silence, watching the hover cars zoom around the skyline, the city awake despite the late hour.

It was Namjoon who broke the silence first.

“I’m happy that you got to me before those cops finished me off.”

You turned to nuzzle into his neck, soaking in his scent. You knew perfectly well what tomorrow would bring. How you would leave him behind to continue your hunt for survival. It was better to have as few connections in this world as possible, you had learned. Saved you a whole lot of heartache. but for now, for now you were happy just to have found another person on this god forsaken planet that sought a human connection as much as you.

“Me too.”

#bts smut #namjoon x reader #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #namjoon smut #bts smut reactions #bts dom #rm x you #bts imagines #namjoon x you #smut one shot #kim namjoon #Admin Zesty #rm smut #rm x reader

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crystalconjunx · 5 years

Note

bayverse optimus with kinktober prompt 19 ewe

19. Dirty Dancing + Closet Bang

Bayverse Optimus/Reader

The new mass displacement drives were incredibly effective tools that allowed for Optimus and the other autobots to shrink to far more manageable sizes. Now that Cade Yeager finally had his barn back and the humans were at relative peace with their presence, his ranch had become a base of sorts.

It was where you and Optimus, along with all the others, could relax safely after a long day.

It was where you and Optimus were now, sitting on large makeshift furniture while a few of the other bots sat around one of the small human entertainment devices Bumblebee called a "television."

The movie that was on now had scenes with humans doing something called a 'pole dance,' in which a human woman climbed a metal rod and spun around in some obscure, intricate ritual.

"I don't get it," Crosshairs piped up. "What exactly do humans find attractive about paying women to climb poles?"

"Maybe it's the music?" Sideswipe asked. "It's definitely suggestive."

"No way," Hot Rod added in his unfortunate accent. "It's about the muscles, yes? The human men, they must like how strong the dancing women are."

"Ah, you bozos don't understand anything," Wheelie complained. "She's hot, she dances, she gets off the pole and grinds on his panels a little. It's simple. Imagine if Drift or Y/N here put on a show like that. You guys would go nuts."

Crosshairs cackled loudly, slapping his knees as he said: "Y/N dancing! Now that I would pay to see!"

"Yeah! How much?" you ask jokingly.

That got all the bots' attention.

"Oh, no, Y/N," Hound groaned. "You've done it now."

"What are you gonna pay her with, Crosshairs? Parts?" Sideswipe laughed.

"No. Y/N, I have a few bottles of Iaconian high-grade I've kept in my subspace since I left. Do it… and I'll give you one." He offered.

That got even more of an uproar.

"Woah, woah, woah, you've had high grade all this time?" Hot Rod asked, standing up to move in in Crosshairs.

"Yeah! And fraggin' good stuff at that. You left Cybertron centuries ago. How old are they exactly?" Hound demanded.

"15,000 cycles, give or take." He answered, kicking Hot Rod back and coming to stand in front of you.

So, What do you say, Y/N?" He asked. He held out his hand. "Deal?"

It had been a long time since you had high grade. Since anyone had, honestly.

"Deal." You said, shaking his servo. You did your best to not pay much mind to his excited grin, but you couldn't turn to face the Prime who was sitting right next to you.

You could feel his optics on you anyway.

You were in the middle of a nature documentary when the barn doors swung open and Crosshairs, at his full height, climbed inside.

"Hey, guys!" Crosshairs shouted. "Look what I just nabbed off Daytrader!"

It was a huge metal beam undoubtedly taken from a construction site somewhere and hopefully, not from the building being constructed. It was rounded and polished, made to look just like one of the poles in the film.

Crosshairs immediately planted the beam— literally, he rammed it into the ground before welding the top part to the ceiling— and turned to you.

"Alright, Y/N. Tonight you can make good on your deal and I'll make good on mine. I've even taken the liberty of picking out a few songs for you."

A challenge was a challenge, but even the embarrassment you were sure to face when you failed was a small price to pay for a taste of high grade.

"Alright, Crosshairs." You shot back, glancing up at the pole. In your displaced form, it was a bit intimidating. "You're on."

Maybe Cade wouldn't notice.

The rest of the autobots who came to watch- Mirage, Hound, Sides, Crosshairs, Drift, and Hot Rod- certainly did, and made short work of rearranging the furniture to encircle the pole and ensuring a full 360° degree audience view.

Wonderful. You hoped all the 'research' that Wheelie had provided you with would prove helpful. But so what? At the worst, you'd come out with a funny story, a few bad jokes, and a bottle of premium high grade. It would undoubtedly hit better than the few shots of unfiltered sludge that you'd become used to on Earth.

You were prepared. To Crosshairs credit, the music wasn't bad. It had a nice beat and salacious lyrics that might help you focus your processors elsewhere.

Everything was going fine until Optimus Prime walked in and took a seat by himself in front of you.

You took a minute to calm your fans. It was no big deal, right? This was objectively entertaining. He was probably here for a laugh just like the others.

At least if things got too embarrassing, you could just turn off your optics, right?

Crosshairs clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, everyone. Here're the rules humans go by. First, no touching the mech's frame at all. Keep your hands to yourselves. If she falls, it's on her. Second, don't interrupt or I'll kick ya in the head. That's it." He said. He snapped his fingers this time, dimming the lights and starting the music from the beginning.

One of the mech's behind you- Hot Rod, probably- let out a loud whistle when you slowly stood and put your back against the bar.

You let the music fill your audials, wrapping your servo around the pole and sliding down with your knees closed. Facing Optimus, you slowly spread your legs apart and began to rise back up the pole. You wrapped an ankle around the polished metal and spun, letting your other leg stick out as you managed a surprisingly graceful lift.

You let yourself cling to the pole again, wrapping around it and holding yourself up with your arms and thighs. You bent one leg around the pole at the knee and leaned back, stretching out until you could see Hound staring at you with his jaw hanging open.

You slid down the pole and onto the ground, letting your legs fall open in a wide split before you lifted your servos caress up your chassis. You leaned and put both your arms to the ground and swung your legs back, lying prone on the ground before pushing yourself up and lifting your hips in a few deep mock thrusts. You moved up on to your knees and crawled to the mech closest to you— Drift, you noticed belatedly— before rising to your feet in front of him, turning around, and revving your engine as you took to the pole again.

If the bots had been laughing before, they certainly weren't now. You had never felt such a rush of excitement, of power, as the warm air from their rushing vents glanced across your frame.

You grabbed the pole and ground your panels against it before turning around and opening your legs wide, trailing your servos down to the top of your closed interface panel before splaying them open and dragging them back up.

You couldn't help but look up at Optimus, seated right in front of you. His optics were like fire, burning across your frame and leaving you strutless.

Time for the finale, then. You climbed up the pole, one arm over the other until you were well above eye level, before grabbing your leg and entering another fast spin. You ended it by putting both servos on the beam and spreading your legs as wide as you could, interface on full display.

Then you flashed your biolights. Humans had no equivalent, but to Cybertronians— to the mechs looking up at you in shock— it was positively sinful.

You let yourself slide down the pole as gracefully as you could.

How humans managed to do that on a regular basis, you didn't want to know. Your protoform was practically melting from the strain.

From the looks of the cheering mechs around you, they hadn't seemed to notice.

"That was amazing, Y/N!" Hot Rod said. "I haven't seen Drift lose his cool so quick in centuries."

Drift only grumbled in response, but he offered you a small nod despite his deep blush.

Hound clapped you on the back. "I think we could start sellin' tickets any day now. At the very least, I think you definitely deserve that high-grade now. Don't ya think so, Crosshairs?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, reaching into his subspace. "Mech of my word. Here ya are, Y/N. And not a bad show. Let me know when the next show is." He joked while he handed you the large bottle. Especially large, considering your current form.

"Thanks," you said, storing the drink in your own subspace for safe-keeping. "Why don't you try it next time, Cross?" You laughed.

He fluttered his optics at you. "Oh? Are you saying you think I'm pretty enough?" He laughed.

The other bots surrounding them quickly pounced on as he went for the pole, leaving you a chance to slip away and relax your vents. You slipped into one of the small storage rooms in the back of the barn.

And found yourself suddenly pressed against the wall and pulled into a heated kiss by none other than Optimus Prime himself.

Primus, but even displaced like he was, he still felt so big and powerful. You kissed him back, doing your best to match the movements of his glossa with your own as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His fans were practically roaring as he pulled away from you.

"Is this alright? I hope I was not too forward." He said apologetically. "Your dance affected me more than I realized."

"It would be fine if you didn't stop," you said, wrapping your legs a little tighter around him.

"Y/N," he warned, but you could detect the hint desperation in his voice as he said your name.

"Yes, Optimus, I want you. You're handsome, and kind, and brave, and I really, really want you to keep kissing me." You pleaded.

That was all he needed to hear before his mouth was back on yours. You ignored the sounds of raucous laughter coming from the barn as Optimus's hand found your panel, tracing the biolights around it with reverent servos.

"May I?" He asked between pressing bites to your neck cables.

You let your panels slide open, throwing your head back as he wet two of his fingers in his mouth and pressed them against your valve, pushing them in slowly to stretch you as gently as he could manage in his haste.

You only let him finger you for a few moments, enough to spread you open for him, before you begged him for his spike.

"Please, please, Optimus, it's fine. Just frag me already!" You begged.

"As you wish, Y/N," he growled before lining his spike up with your valve and slamming inside. It was a little soon, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care as your calipers quickly adjusted.

He wasted no time as he fragged into you hard and fast, his dentae hard and sharp against your shoulder as you held onto him while your engine stuttered in pleasure.

"Oppy, Oppy, Oppy, please," you cried, pawing your servos at his chest plates, "Please touch me!" You begged.

He dropped a servo to your anterior node, circling it as he kept up his thrusts.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N. I knew I had to see you. I knew if I watched you I wouldn't be able to stop myself. They can all watch you, but only I can touch you. You belong to me." He asserted his point with another rough thrust, lighting up those deep-set nodes that had you biting into his own shoulder plates to muffle your cries while he pinched and rolled your anterior node.

"Overload for me, Y/N," he whispered into your audial. "Show me who you belong to."

The white-hot charge you'd been carrying all night burned through your worn-out frame at his command. You could feel the energy rush through your spark as he hilted himself into you and shared the electric shock that burned you inside and out with pleasure as his spike throbbed inside you.

Slowly, gently, he pulled away and unwrapped your legs from his frame before he carefully lowered you to the ground.

You caught him by the helm before he could move away, giving him a soft kiss this time. His blue optics met your own, and he smiled before sitting next to you.

"I take it you're coming to the next show?" You ask him as you lean against his warm frame.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He said, leaning back.

That high-grade would definitely come in handy.

#bayverse #valveplug #bayverse op is one crazy motherfucker #bayverse optimus #this isn't crack at all #premium content guys #where else can you get THIS #kinktober #reader insert #cybertronian s/o #optimus/reader #optimus prime

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susspirria · 5 years

Text

Make Me - Chapter One

Pairing: Handsome Jack/Rhys

Summary: After Rhys' bratty misbehavior and need for attention nearly causes a minor scandal for Hyperion, Jack takes him on a vacation to his private cabin in Promethea for a much needed attitude adjustment.

Tags/Warnings: Bratting,BDSM Scene,Dom/sub,Daddy Kink,Cock Cages,Suspension,Rough Sex,SpankingImpact Play,Orgasm Delay/Denial,Sex Toys Under Clothing Aftercare,Blindfolds,Masochism,Sadism,Come Marking,Creampie,Public Humiliation,Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Bondage

(Read here on ao3 or under the cut!)

Even after being Handsome Jack’s protege and pretty little pet for nearly three years, Rhys could never get used to how mercurial and hectic the older man’s schedule was. He could never help getting his hopes every time the two of them made plans together, only to get miserable and disappointed when Jack would end up canceling on them.

This day was no different, which was incredibly disappointing because Rhys had really gone all out for Jack this time. They had planned a night in, a romantic dinner and some private time together he had cooked a three course meal that consisted of: A tomato bisque as an appetizer, lemon chicken piccata as a main course and a vanilla panna cotta for dessert. He had dressed himself up in silk and lace lingerie underneath his best suit, so that Jack would be in for a pleasant surprise when he finally got Rhys undressed. He had been really looking forward to sitting in the older mans’ lap, having Jack fawn over him like he was something special. He always did, he loved when Jack was able to pay him attention and spoil him – he had been so deprived of it lately and it was driving him up the wall. Jack knew that, and he had promised that he would make all those late nights and canceled plans up to him.

Rhys waited in their penthouse, “casually” posing himself in a way that he hoped looked sexy to the older man on the love seat in their living room – so that he would be one of the first things that Jack saw when he strode through the front door. And he waited, and waited… and waited. As patiently as he could, but after a while, he got sick and tired of waiting and decided to send Jack a message.

[To Jack: Hey handsome, where are you? I’m already all dressed up and I got everything ready for you ;)]

After about five minutes – which, in Rhys’ mind was way too long of a wait – he finally got his response.

[From Jack: Sorry princess cant make it. Emergenc meeting w/Jakobs]

Rhys sighed in disappointment, before he started typing away – trying not to call Jack up and chew him out. It was the third time that something like this had happened this month alone and he was getting sick of it.

[To Jack: What, seriously? What the hell, Jack, we’ve been planning this for weeks!]

[From Jack: U know how those idiots are Ill make it up to you I promise bby 😘😘 😘]

Rhys sincerely doubted that, as far as he was concerned Handsome Jack’s promises held very little weight. He pouted and threw his comm down on the bed, letting it bounce of a few inches away from him. “Whatever.” He mumbled to himself, before he grabbed his comm again and decided to dial up Fiona and Sasha. He could have hung out with Vaughn, but that would have just been another chill night in and that was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted to get so drunk that he could forget about how miserable being stood up by his boyfriend – again – made him feel.

Fiona answered the phone on the second ring, “What do you want, Rhys?” She said, instead of greeting him like a person, in a tired and grumpy sounding tone of voice.

Rhys pursed his lips at that, “Hello to you too, Fiona!” He replied, just as snide and sarcastic as she came off. “I’m doing great thanks for asking, you’re such a kind and considerate friend. Love that for you.” He bitterly sniped at her.

Fiona laughed sarcastically in reply to that. “Thanks, I try.” She said, “But seriously, why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” She asked, “You never call anymore…unless you want something.” She reminded him, speaking in a wistful sort of tone. Usually when he wanted to do something suspect or morally questionable things, he would call her or Sasha up. It wasn’t like Fiona was blaming him, though, it wasn’t like he could ask Vaughn or Yvette if either of them wanted to go to the up over bar, get blackout drunk and scam some scavengers out of their life savings. That was something that only the three of them could do together.

Rhys was quiet for a few moments, “…Jack stood me up.” He admitted. He was pretty sure that Fiona could hear him pouting all the way from Elpis.

“Again?” She asked, amusement obvious in her tone of voice. “Why don’t you just dump him at this point, if he neglects you so much?” She added, with some mock pity.

“What, no!” He snapped back, “No, I just-” He cut himself off with a pitiful whine. “He’s been so busy! It’s been at least weeks since we’ve had some personal time together. I’m getting so-”

“I really don’t want to know about your-” Fiona attempted to interrupt.

“Lonely.” Rhys finished lamely. “Agh! He sucks so much, he always does this. I just… are you guys still on Elpis?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes…?”

“You want to hang out?” He asked, in a pleading tone. “We could go to the up over bar. See what kind of fancy cocktails they have there this week.” He added, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Depends.” Fiona replied. “Are you buying?”

“Jack’s buying.” Rhys said with a smirk as he fiddled with the black card that Jack had gifted him a few months back.

The Up Over Bar looked nearly identical to when it had been run by Moxxi. The only difference is that Moxxi wasn’t sitting behind the bar. The cocktails were the same, the atmosphere was the same, every single thing was the same. Rhys loved coming here, it was comforting to him and the cocktails were great. When Rhys arrived at the bar, Fiona and Sasha were sitting there in wait for him at one of the booths. Sasha waved him over and loudly exclaimed his name. Rhys skipped over to them and greeted them with as much enthusiasm as he could manage with how low he felt.

Both of the sisters had a bad habit of, for as long as Rhys had known them and they had been friends with each other, encouraging his worst behaviors. So, when Rhys had gotten a few bottles of the most expensive liquor that Jack’s credit card could buy and suggested that they do shots they had – of course – agreed heartily to it. It didn’t take them long to regret that, because soon enough, Rhys was falling over drunk and dancing on tables with strangers – and even then the two of them kept on encouraging him to make a fool of himself for their own entertainment.

It didn’t take long for Rhys’ behavior to spiral out into something that they couldn’t do much damage control over – and soon enough the three of them were thrown out of the bar for the night. Rhys flipped off the guard as he was escorted outside and giggled at the brawny looking man when he shook his head at Rhys. Then he turned to Fiona, “You guys want to do some shopping?” He asked and then, eyeing their clothes. “I can get you guys something new to wear.” He added, “Looks like you need it.”

“God, just shut up, Rhys.” Sasha said.

Fiona just rolled her eyes, “Why don’t we get something to eat.” She suggested, looking at the way that sloppy Rhys was carrying himself with a lot of judgment. “Especially you.” She added, equally judgmental.

Rhys sighed and made a big show of rolling his eyes. “Okay, fine.” He said, before he was led along to a little twenty four hour diner in the middle of Concordia. The three of them sat down at the bar, and soon enough Rhys was recognized by a well dressed man donned in hues of yellows and blues – Maliwan colors, he thought. Probably a Maliwan rep. “Hey, I know you!” one of them said, as he slotted himself between Rhys and his friends. It was rude and Fiona commented as much, but she was ignored by them. “You’re Handsome Jack’s… assistant, right?” He guessed.

Rhys nodded even though calling him Jack’s assistant wasn’t completely accurate, and smiled as politely as he could with how drunk he was and ordered a bunch of carb-ladened foods from the bot manning the diner, so that he could have a little of everything. Maliwan guy continued on, laying it on incredibly thick. Rhys smiled at that, remembering fondly the way that Jack kept a hand on Rhys’ hip – holding him close and possessive as he condescended to the other CEO’s and big wigs of the other corporations. Then his mood soured as he thought of how distant he was now.

“God, I can’t imagine what it’s like working for Handsome Jack.” Maliwan Guy commented in a wistful sort of way. “It must be amazing. And terrifying. And amazing!” He was really was laying it on thick.

Rhys rolled his eyes and let out a little scoff, like even the concept of admiring or fearing Jack was entirely ridiculous. “Not really. He’s such a prick.” He said, without even thinking about it.

Maliwan Guy’s eyes narrowed in an almost predatory fashion, like he had been aiming for something like this to happen. “Really?” He said, with a bad imitation of sympathy lacing his voice, “Why would you say that?” He asked.

That didn’t sound good to Sasha and she decided to intervene. “Okay Rhys, I know you’re mad at Jack – I don’t blame you, either, but maybe you should calm down a bit.” Sasha suggested, realizing that this would probably not end well for him if this guy was even half as skeevy as he looked. For all they knew, he could be trying to wrangle Rhys into drinking roofied cocktails or filming blackmail material. Anything was possible, considering his very public status as Handsome Jack’s boyfriend.

Rhys shrugged her off, “N-no! You wanna know about Handsome Jack, I’ll tell ya all about Handsome Jack.” He said, pulling the man – what was his name again? Had Rhys even asked? He could barely remember – closer to him. “I’ll tell ya the whole stoooory jus’- uh, just hear me out.” He promised, putting his hand on the other mans chest in an overly friendly manner for how little he knew the man.

“Great!” Maliwan guy answered, with a smug smile spreading across his face. “I’d love to hear all about it.” He added, in a bad attempt at a comforting tone of voice. It was obviously fake, but Rhys was a little too drunk to think of it as anything other than genuine concern for him.

“Oh god.” Fiona mumbled to herself, while Rhys ranted away at what a terrible, useless, boyfriend Handsome Jack was, not noticing the fact that he was being filmed by Maliwan guy. He wasn’t even trying hard to hide the fact that he was. Sasha put her face in her hands, just as mortified as her sister was. The two of them didn’t let that go on for more than a few minutes before they decided to seriously intervene.

“What. Nooooo, you guys are so booooooring! I wanna have more fun here.” He argued, weakly trying to pull them off of him. Fiona and Sasha shrugged him off like he was nothing, “I wanna drink more, and – and dance and shit.” He added in a simpering tone. “I thought you guys were fun…”

They pointedly ignored any of his argumentations. “I think you’ve had enough tonight.” Sasha said, manhandling him around with little regard for his sense of personal space or boundaries. “Of everything.”

“He’s gonna kill you.” Fiona told him as she and Sasha dragged him back to the shuttle. “You know that, right?”

“Whooooo’s gonna kill me?” He drunkenly asked, lolling his head to the side sleepily. The two sisters gave each other a look and the two of them made the journey back to Rhys’ apartment in almost total silence. Once they finally got there, they deposited him on his bed and sternly told him to drink some water and prepare to deal with the consequences of his stupid, drunken actions.

Rhys was still cognizant – and petty – enough that, once he was alone in the penthouse, he decided to send Jack a few more angry messages.

[To Jack: I hate u ur suck a jerk] [> such!!! ur such a jerk] [> u leftttt me alll alon e aga in]

Then Rhys set up his camera, taking a few photos of him in the lingerie, before he stripped out of it for the night. After he sent the photos, he sent Jack a few more messages.

[To Jack: ths is wat u missed o ut on,,, asshole] [> hav fukkin fun @ werk I gues u fukin dik]

He passed out, with his comm pressed to his face, before he managed to send Jack another incredibly aggressive ‘goodnight.’ message. It was probably for the best that he did.

Jack stood, with blood caking his fingernails as he interrogated the paparazzi scum that was in front of him. The idiot had burst into his office, with a smug expression on his face as he declared that he had some unflattering material on Rhys – and if he didn’t want it to get out to the rest of the world, then he better pay up. It was hilarious, in a pathetic and stupid sort of way. This small time loser trying to extort him – trying to extort Handsome Jack of all people – with a few measly photos and some videos.

Needless to say, Jack had shot him in the leg and tied him to a chair. He decided to take his time with this one – just for managing to get his attention, and pissing him off while he was at it. By the time that Jack was done with him, he was nothing more than gristle and bone – a husk strapped to the chair, still twitching as his dead body rattled. “Rhysie.” Jack breathed into his echo as he took practically hyperventilated from the adrenaline that was rushing through him. He always felt rejuvenated after a kill. “Get up to my office, cupcake. I got a surprise for ya!” He laughed, looking at the dead creep in front of him and then down at his bloody clothes. “It’s a killer.”

It wasn’t like Hyperion – or him – was in any real danger, at least not from that idiot. But it could have been, if Rhys had been unfortunate enough to talk to a slightly more intelligent moron. So Jack decided to call Rhys up for a much needed attitude adjustment. Rhys didn’t notice anything off in his tone and grumbled, “It’s my day off though…” He said and Jack could practically hear him pouting and rolling over in bed, cocooning himself further into the covers as he tried to block out Jack’s demanding tenor.

Jack’s tone turned serious, demanding and domineering – just how Rhys always liked him. “I’m not asking you, princess.” He said, “I’m telling you. Y’know, as your boss.” He reminded him. Rhys grumbled a bit before he hung up. He was at the door in nearly five minutes.

Rhys walked in and looked at the sight in front of him. He made a concerted effort to appear as if he was unperturbed by the sight of the paparazzi – beaten and bloody, tied to a chair. He made himself stand tall and pull a straight face. He knew that he was in trouble and he was more excited for a punishment than he – maybe – should have been. “You wanted to see me, Jack?” He asked, with a bit of attitude on the edge of his tone. He couldn’t help it. The words, “So do you finally have enough time for me now?” lay on the tip of his tongue, unspoken but clear in the tension that sat between them.

Jack snorted and mumbled, “Spoiled little brat.” underneath his breath before he addressed Rhys. “Get over here. I’m not gonna ask you again.” He said in a harsh tone – one that old Rhys that he was in trouble and it would only get worse if he didn’t take his punishment with a smile. He beckoned the younger man forward his hand.

Rhys walked over to him, only slightly nervous about what was gonna happen to him – he was still a little drunk and still feeling petty and bitter towards Jack. He had wanted to punish the older man for neglecting him and it seemed that all he managed to accomplish was getting himself punished. Oh well, Rhys thought, it wasn’t like he had to go and make it easy on Jack.

Jack didn’t say a word – just gave Rhys a vaguely threatening and unimpressed look as Rhys made his way over to stand in front of him. Jack put his hands on Rhys’ shoulders, a gesture that was falsely comforting and gentle. “You wanna know what I did this morning?” He asked. Rhys just glared at him – giving him the silent treatment like he always did whenever Jack upset him. That was fine, seeing as Jack wasn’t expecting an answer anyways. “I had to spend all fucking morning cleaning up your mess.” Then he gestured towards the dead man, “Next time you’re pissed at me, try not to tell the whole fucking galaxy about it.”

Rhys didn’t look impressed with his scare tactics, he understood that – at least when it came to him – Jack was more bark than he was bite. He figured that that was just one of the perks of having the most hated man in the galaxy in love with him – no matter what, no serious harm would ever come to him. At least not from Jack’s hands. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?” Jack asked him in a mockingly sweet tone of voice.

Rhys huffed softly, before he smiled in a coquettish sort of way. “Did you like the photos I sent you last night?” He asked, sarcasm heavy in his tone. Jack laughed a bit at that, mostly to himself, before he grabbed Rhys by the collar and tore his shirt open – the buttons popping as he did so. Rhys cried out in indignant scorn and outrage, “Hey, that was my favorite shirt!” But Jack wasn’t listening, he was too in the moment, too angry with him. Jack pulled Rhys’ shirt off of his shoulders and bunched it behind his back. Then he grabbed Rhys’ too long tie and used it to tie his arms behind his back.

Rhys let out another indignant noise, but didn’t bother to struggle in the binds – although, he was sure that if he wanted to he could probably get out of them – and within moments, Jack turned him around again and pulled his pants down. It was a miracle that they didn’t tear apart just like his top. His pants pooled at his ankle, nearly tripped him over as Jack dragged him along to his chair.

Jack sat himself down and manhandled Rhys so that he was laying face down in his lap. His hand cracked down across Rhys’ ass hard enough to leave red hand print shaped marks against the doughy flesh. It hurt in a way that made Rhys squirm and whine for more. Jack hit him a few more times before he said anything

After a while, Rhys started becoming desensitized to the painful feeling and he started to enjoy it. He had always been a little bit of a masochist, once he was warmed up and Jack knew that. Still, once he started giggling at the rough treatment that he was receiving, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t even know why he started giggling in the first place. Jack’s fingers dug through his hair and pulled Rhys up so that he was forced to face him, “You think this is funny, Rhysie?” He asked in a dangerous tone. “This all just a joke to you?”

Rhys couldn’t stop giggling, “I mean a little.” He admitted. “Ju-just a little bit.” He added in between breathless, nearly drunk laughter. Jack pulled Rhys off of his lap and bent Rhys over his desk. Rhys let out a few sad whimpers at the loss of skin on skin contact. His face was pushed down against the desk, hard enough to leave raw and red marks against his face.

He heard Jack pulling off his belt, and instinctively snapped his legs shut tight. He bit down on his lower lip and tried to stifle out any more noises. Jack’s hand caressed Rhys’ already flushed bottom before he looped his belt up into a makeshift whip. Rhys could hear the air whipping around as Jack flicked it with his wrist to get himself ready. Rhys let out a broken cry as the leather cracked down across his backside.

“You just love to make me go hard on ya, don’t you Rhysie?” Jack asked in a low and dangerous tone of voice. Rhys didn’t reply, he just shuddered with a mixture of fear and arousal roaming through him. The belt cracked down on his ass again, eliciting another whine out of him. “Hey! I asked you a question.” He added, not giving Rhys a break or a chance to breath as he struck him again and again.

Rhys huffed out breathlessly and moaned like a whore, despite the pain he felt. “Yes, yes, daddy I do. I love giving you trouble daddy.” He smiled, “And I’m not sorry ‘bout it.” He smiled, but it was hidden from the older man as he was face down against the furniture, “Sorry, daddy but I’m not sorry.” He added, turning up the brattiness to overdrive. Jack struck Rhys’ ass and the back of his thighs with his belt over and over again, until Rhys was trembling and tears were pouring down his cheeks.

He still wasn’t sorry. Not even a little bit and Jack didn’t even bother asking if he was before he pulled him up by the hair again, forcing him to walk into the middle of his office and pushed him down on his knees in front of Jack. “Open your mouth.” Jack hissed at him. Rhys’ mouth fell open without him even putting in effort and he stuck his tongue out so that it lay flat against his abused lower lip.

He had loved acting rude and bratty, he always did – but he wanted the older mans’ cock in his mouth and down his throat even more than he wanted to keep acting out. Despite the fact that this was a punishment, Jack gave Rhys everything that he wanted. Jack pulled his cock out from the confines of his pants and let the tip of it sit heavily on Rhys’ tongue while he got himself hard.

Jack’s cock was long and thick, it never failed to stuff his mouth full and leave his jaw aching whenever he got a chance to blow him. And he loved that, loved that it hurt just a little bit when Jack forced his cock down Rhys’ throat – it was like a fun little punishment for himself – a funishment, if you will. So, naturally, Jack kept a hand entwined in his hair – holding him back from doing just that.

This was still supposed to be a punishment. Rhys whined as he was continually denied what he wanted. “Daddy, can I-” He asked, in a pathetic and overly submissive tone of voice, “Please?”

“Please, what?” Jack prompted, holding his cock centimeters from Rhys’ lips. He pushed his hips forward just a bit, so that the tip of his dick was just barely brushing past his lips, before he pushed back out of the younger mans’ reach. He did this a few more times to Rhys. It was incredibly frustrating to him, just as Jack intended.

“Lemme suck you, please…” He pleaded in a voice that was rough and quiet – barely loud enough for Jack to hear him. “It’s all I want, daddy… I need it.” He added, even more desperately.

“Keep being polite like this and I’ll consider it, pumpkin. Come on, Rhysie, say please again.” Jack told him, laughing at how desperate Rhys was and how quick the change was. Rhys glared at him weakly and darted his tongue out, “Just give me one more.” He urged in a less than gentle manner.

“Please, please, daddy let me suck your cock.” Rhys begged, “Please, you asshole.” He added in a sharp tone. Jack decided to let him get away with it, for now at least, and allowed him enough free reign to take the older man’s cock in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the tip briefly, allowing himself to taste him, before he took him in his mouth. He bobbed his head up and down,

He wasn’t allowed the control for much longer than that. Jack grabbed the back of his head again and told him to relax his throat – Rhys did his best to do just that, like he always did – only seconds before he forced Rhys’ head down and pushed his hips forward, so that his cock was practically forced down the younger mans throat. He moaned around the cock in his mouth and closed his eyes as he relaxed his throat, tipping his head back a little so that Jack had an easier time going while he fucked his throat.

Rhys’ hair was a tangled mess and it was getting even worse the older man knotted his fingers in it to hold Rhys’ head firmly in place. Jack thrust in and out of his mouth hard, barely giving Rhys room to breath in between thrusts. The younger man struggled to breath through his nose – every breath that he took felt like it was a reward, the conscious effort that he had to make to keep himself stable was strangely satisfying to him.

This went on for some time – Jack fucking his throat raw, while Rhys whined, moaned and struggled to keep himself afloat. Then Jack pulled out suddenly and Rhys let out a whine of discontent. Jack held Rhys’ head in place, giving him no ability to pull away as he came all over the younger mans’ face. He smiled down at the younger man as Rhys took heaving breaths to calm his heart rate down. He looked up at Jack with big, pleading eyes. “You look so good like that, baby.” He cooed, “Much less bratty.”

Rhys didn’t respond to anything of that, just whimpered quietly. “C’mon.” Jack urged, pulling Rhys to his feet. “We’re going home. I’m not done with you just yet.” He promised, biting at Rhys’ ear as he whispered in the younger mans ear. Rhys was still bound with his arms tied behind his back and half dressed – because Jack had at least been kind enough to pull his pants up, but he didn’t do much else for him – with the older man’s cum dripping down his face. The two of them walked out of his office and into an elevator that was filled with a decent amount of people.

Rhys recognized at least half of them and rounded his shoulders in embarrassment. No one said a damn thing, they pointedly ignored Rhys’ existence – thank god. At least until Jack decided to strike up a conversation with one of the workers that was unfortunate enough to have happened to be standing right by Jack and him, a squirrely looking R&D scientist that Jack insisted on calling Francis. Rhys was almost entirely sure that the guys name wasn’t Francis, but ‘Francis’ didn’t bother to correct Jack – probably because he didn’t want to die at their murderous CEO’s hands.

Jack kept an arm around Rhys, both as a show of ownership and to make him a spectacle. Rhys trained his eyes to the floor, feeling like he was on full display for the entirety of Helios – even if there were only five or six people who saw him like this. “Have you met Rhysie, Francis?” He asked, not waiting for the man to respond when he said, “Of course you have…everybody knows Rhys! He’s everybody’s best friend – doesn’t matter if they’re Hyperion or Maliwan scum.” He turned to Rhys and asked him, in a low voice that sent shivers down the younger mans’ spine, “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

“Yup.” Rhys said quietly, barely audible. He bit down on his lower lip and let their conversation wash over him – the words muddled. He closed his eyes and he intensely felt that everyone’s eyes were on him. It made his skin crawl, in the worst and best sort of way. It was humiliating, in a way that had him trembling and whimpering, while Jack practically ignored his existence in favor of chatting up his subordinates.

Rhys had tears in his eyes by the time that the elevator finally stopped on their floor, and they were on the way back to their penthouse. Jack noticed that he was getting overwhelmed and stopped walking, he gently squeezed Rhys’ shoulder and turned him around so that Jack could look him in the eye while he checked in on his mental state. “Rhys-” He sighed, “look at me, pumpkin.” He scolded and Rhys was quick to obey – his eyes were watery and glassy, “

“I… it’s just so much…” Rhys admitted after a few minutes, his voice was a bit raspy and weak from all the crying, whining and having his throat fucked.

Jack absentmindedly played with Rhys’ already mussed up hair as he spoke, “You wanna dial it back then, baby?” He suggested, as gently as he was capable of.

Rhys shook his head as Jack wiped away his tears. “N-no it’s okay, ‘m okay, I promise. I wanna keep going…” He mumbled out in a voice that was just loud enough for Jack to hear him. “Please.” He added with desperation obvious in his voice. The older man nodded and led him down the hall with one hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder in a comforting manner and his other squeezing his butt, nudging him onward to take the rest of his punishment.

Once they were back in the penthouse, Jack had demanded that he strip himself down and kneel on the plush and clean carpet. Rhys – having his confidence and bratty attitude restored a little bit by the check in – was only a little difficult about it. He sighed, rolled his eyes and nearly stuck his tongue out at the older man before his knees buckled without his permission and he did exactly as he was asked.

Jack stood back and watched as Rhys got into position and once Rhys was kneeling, naked on his floor Then he made him sit and wait until Jack decided to walk over to him, and grab his chin so that he was forced to look up at Jack. “Have you learned your lesson yet?” He asked in a tone that was genuine and honest. Rhys didn’t respond just yet. Jack followed that up with, “Are you gonna be a good boy now, Rhysie?” His fingers tracing Rhys’ plump bottom lip with thumb in an idle manner.

Rhys pretended to think about it and a coy smile spread across his face. “No, daddy, I don’t think I’ve learned my lesson just yet.” He said, playfully shaking his head from side to side. “And I don’t think I will be, no.” He added, before making an attempt to stifle his giggles, before he steeled himself and said, in a tone that was practically gift wrapped as bait, “Make me.”

It was more than enough to spring Jack into action. He pounced on Rhys, throwing him down on the ground. The action made Rhys breathlessly whine at the powerlessness that he felt right then. Jack’s hands wrapped around his throat, restricting his airflow until Rhys was kicking his legs out and making desperate, fearful little noises. Tears flowed from his eyes freely and he was suddenly all too aware of the older man’s erection against his hip.

Jack loosened up his grip on the younger man’s throat. Rhys took in a few greedy breaths. “Let’s try this one more time…” He purred in a low and sweet sounding voice. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” He asked, although he was sure that he already knew what he was going to say.

Rhys hesitated for just a moment before he gave him a mischievous sort of look and then repeated himself, “Make me.” He said, desperation lacing his voice. It sounded, to Jack at least, like he was asking for help instead of what he had said. Jack was happy to help him out. For now, at least.

“Mm-kay… if that’s what you want.” Jack cooed and then pressed rough, biting kisses down his chest and stomach. Rhys squirmed just a little bit, but ultimately didn’t fight him.

“What are you…” Rhys trailed off and let out a moan as Jack stroked his cock gently. “I thought you were gonna-” He was cut off by Jack gently shushing him. His brow furrowed in confusion, but everything that Jack did to him was so soothing and relaxing to him that he didn’t argue.

“Relax, princess…” The older man cooed, voice barely above a whisper. He smiled and pressed his lips against the shaft of Rhys’ plump, hard cock. His tongue darted out, sliding up and down over his shaft. Rhys let out a pleasant sigh, he hadn’t been expecting this, and spread his legs a little. Jack sucked him off with incredible gentleness. He pressed feather light kisses all over the base and shaft of his cock and stroked him low and slow. Even still, it didn’t take long to wind Rhys up.

“Daddy, I’m…” Rhys whined in a high, breathy voice as he bucked his hips and squirmed around as much as the older man allowed him to. “Oh fuck, oh god, please… please, please, please.”

The older man chuckled, the vibrations of his throat nearly tipping Rhys over the edge. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” Jack hummed as the younger man squirmed and bucked into his hands and lips.

“Yeah,” Rhys replied, breathlessly. “Yeah I think I’m gonna- fuck, Ja- I mean…can I, please?” He practically begged, hoping to be as polite and sweet as possible, just so he could get everything that he wanted from the older man. “Daddy, please?”

Then Jack stopped, seconds before Rhys would have cum. “Mm, nah.” He said. Rhys opened his mouth to curse at him, but it turned into a whine as Jack pinched and pulled at Rhys’ cock and balls, scratching painfully over his shaft. Rhys cried out in misery as his erection diminished and the heat in his gut felt like it was curdling, turning his stomach.

“Daddy, you’re so mean…” He whined as Jack pushed him down the ground with a rough, bruising grip.

“Shut up. You love it when I’m mean.” The older man replied, cruelly gleeful at his partner’s expense. He gave Rhys one more kiss before he pulled out a small, clear cock cage with a bright gold lock at the base of it. Rhys’ eyes widened just a bit and he trembled nervously as he realized that he probably wasn’t gonna cum tonight. Bummer, he thought, but maybe he deserved that much.

Jack hesitated for just a moment – giving him a short window to use his safe word. Rhys took a breath and nodded at him, as if to say, “It’s okay, keep going.” without saying so much as a word. He secured it on him within seconds. Then Jack pulled him to his feet.

The two of them walked over to a portion of the room, in front of one of the windows. There was a hook that was attached to the ceiling above them. Rhys looked at it with interest, but didn’t say anything. “You gonna be a good boy now?” Jack asked, staring Rhys down hard.

Rhys looked down at his currently useless cock and pretended to be upset. “I guess I have to now, don’t I?” He practically fluttered his eyelashes at Jack, flirtatiously. “If I want to get this off of me… I have to be good.” He even had the audacity to pout and look at Jack with pleading eyes.

“That’s riiiiight.” Jack flicked his nose condescendingly and then, tapped idly at the younger mans’ locked up dick in a cruel gesture of having power over the usually so defiant younger man. “You’re helpless, baby. You gotta do whatever I want, if you ever want to come again.” Just like Rhys wanted to be, was left unsaid.“Now, gimme your hands.” Rhys did as he was told and Jack pressed them together, holding them in place as he tied them together tightly in front of his chest with a thick, brightly colored length of rope. Jack attached his wrist to the ceiling hook.

“What are you gonna do to me now?” Rhys asked, only a little fearful.

“What-ev-er I want.” Jack reminded him in a cheeky tone of vocie. Rhys felt his knees get weak, like they were made of jelly, and he nodded weakly. A thick blindfold was slipped over his eyes and he suddenly felt completely helpless. Jack pet his thigh in a soothing manner for just a moment and he relaxed, trusting the older man to be good to him.

Jack stopped petting him after a moment, He let out a gasp of surprise as the hook ascended towards the ceiling, stretching his limbs out far more than was comfortable. Even with as tall as Rhys was, he could barely stand on his tiptoes. He couldn’t move much, he couldn’t see anything. Everything felt so much more intense like this. He heard a bottle open, and in moments he felt something cool drip between his ass cheeks and a bit down the back of his thighs.

He let out a soft gasp at the sensation and unconsciously recoiled from it. The gasp quickly turned into a whine as he felt Jack’s thick fingers nudge against his entrance, stroking the rim of the younger mans’ hole until he relaxed and let him in. He subjected Rhys to an incredibly brisk, somewhat rough fingering. It didn’t take long for Rhys to start deriving pleasure from it, and he was rocking back on his partner’s fingers in no time. Jack used both hands to slap down on each of his cheeks, spanking him until his ass was cherry red and tears were falling down Rhys’ face.

Jack grabbed him and pushed him down, so that he was forced to arch his back, before he slowly forced his cock in Rhys’ well stretched hole. He didn’t give him much time to adjust at all, and fucked Rhys with little care. “Ah, you feel so big. Too big…s-so good.” Rhys whined, squirming as Jack thrust in and out of him, digging his nails into Rhys’ hips – hard enough to bruise as he fucked him. He felt like a sex toy, in the best sort of way. In that moment, it was like he was just some pretty doll that hung from the ceiling and his only purpose was for Jack to come in and stuff him with his cock.

Jack responded by slapping his ass, “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll leave you here all night.” He snapped in a low, nearly animalistic growl. Rhys let his head fall forward, his chin pressed against his chest as Jack took everything that he wanted from him.

Rhys let out a whine and bit down on his lower lip to stifle any more noises or words that might come out of him. He set his jaw tight and only allowed a few soft whimpers to escape from his lips, while Jack thrust in and out of him, pistoning his hips against Rhys’ hard and fast. It was overwhelming, he hit his prostate almost constantly and every time that Rhys’ cock started to stiffen, it would be crushed down by the cage around his cock – which hurt. A lot.

It felt like he was being used – in suspended animation – for years and years, constantly. Then Jack came inside of him, flooding his insides with his cum. He pulled out after a moment and slapped his thigh. Jack watched with interest as his cum dripped out of the younger mans’ hole. Rhys looked filthy and he told him as much. “Aw, kitten! You look so cute when you’re not mouthing off.”

Rhys whimpered and squeezed his thighs together tight. He was trembling and shaking – overwhelmed and exhausted by everything that they had done together. He wanted nothing more than for Jack to hold him and tell him that he did well, that everything was going to be okay. “Daaaaddy…I need you.” Rhys whined out in a sleepy sounding mumble. Rhys let out a soft sob, worried – in the strange head space that he was in – that he had done something wrong and Jack would leave him here alone all night like he had threatened. “D-daddy please.” He hiccuped, shaking like a leaf.

Jack circled him, checking for any damage beyond superficial marks and bruises. Once he was sure that he was completely fine, he undid all of the restraints that he was tied in, unlocked the cock cage and then picked the younger man up. He scooped him into his arms and held him securely. Rhys whimpered and mumbled soft, fearful statements while Jack shushed him.

Jack pressed kisses to his hair while the younger man reached out to him for comfort and security, like he was the only person in the universe who could make him feel safe. Jack gladly offered that security to him with open arms and kind words. Rhys hung onto Jack like he was a koala bear, it made Jack smile. He got so damn clingy after a scene or a punishment. “I know, baby, I know…” Jack crooned in his ear, soothing down Rhys’ sweat slick hair. He carried Rhys to their bathroom and sat him down in the large tub. “Just, relax, sweetheart and let daddy take care of you.”

Rhys’ head lolled to the side in a sleepy manner as comfortably warm water filled the tub. Jack filled it up with bubble bath and a bath bomb, so that it was extra soothing to the younger man. “I’ll be right back in a minute.” He said, tweaking his nose playfully. Rhys just nodded dumbly, too fucked out to do much more than enjoy the comforting feeling of the warm water lapping around his sore body.

Jack came back with a bottle of cold water with a straw poking out through the top of it. He sat it down on the edge before he stripped himself entirely naked and got in the tub with him. Rhys crawled forward on his hands and knees and curled himself up in the older man’s arms. He sipped the water quietly, as Jack pet him and tell him what a good boy he was and how well he had taken his punishments. Rhys drank in the praise greedily, holding onto Jack and mumbling sweetly spoken affirmations back to the older man. The two of them took to gently washing each other – smiling, laughing and kissing each other the whole time.

Once they were sufficiently clean and relaxed, Jack pulled the two of them out of the bath. Gently maneuvering Rhys to his feet so that the younger man could towel himself off. Neither of them bothered to dress themselves again – why would they? – before they slowly walked back to their bedroom. They laid down, ready for sleep, cuddled up close against each other.

“You’re a good boy, Rhysie.” Jack told him one more time, “Even if you’re too much of a brat most of the time.” He added in a teasing manner.

Rhys gave him a pleased, dopey sort of grin. “You’re a good boy too…” He replied, in a tone that seemed strangely genuine. Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that – if only because it was something that Rhys would have said at any other time to get a rise out of him.

“Yeah?” Jack challenged, raising a brow at the younger man curled up against his side. He wrapped an arm around him and he arched closer to him.

“Yeah.” Rhys affirmed and then nuzzled against Jack’s chest in a fashion that was not unlike a kitten gentle headbutting against someone for affection. Jack smiled, he thought that it was cute when Rhys got like this. He could be so endearing when he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of the older man but he could be just as endearing when he was trying to get a rise out of him too. “You’re so good to me.” He frowned as he suddenly recalled what started all of this. “’M sorry, for t-talking to that guy at the club.” He mumbled, tired enough to let himself be honest with Jack. “I didn’t mean to put you… er, or Hyperion in danger.” He admitted. “I was just… I was so lonely! I missed you so much-”

Jack cut him off with a few possessive kisses. “No harm done baby,” He said, “This time. Just, ah, don’t do it again. Alright?” Rhys didn’t respond, as by the time that he finished speaking he had passed out in his arms. Jack scoffed and gently disentangled their limbs. He gave Rhys a kiss on the top of his head and wrapped him up in the soft, warm blankets before he walked off to make some arrangements.

They were no strangers to Rhys acting out – usually in little, inconsequential ways so that he could get a punishment. Rhys liked the pain and the humiliations, Jack liked doling it out to him and putting him in his place. Their dynamic worked specifically because they were uniquely suited to each other – it was a symbiotic relationship that they had.

But he felt – and Rhys felt, if his angry misbehavior was any tell – that he had been neglecting him as of late. It wasn’t entirely his fault, running Hyperion kept him busy as hell, but it was obvious that it had taken a toll on the younger man. Rhys was always desperate for his attention and getting less of it had kept him on edge. So, he decided to set that right as soon as possible.

He called up Timothy first and told him that he was in luck – he would have the extra comfy gig of sitting in his office, pretending to be him on Helios, if only because he was the doppelganger that he trusted the most. Even if Timothy proclaimed to hate him, he was understandably loyal to the man that he shared a face with. He’d had to pull the comm of his ear when Timothy started excitedly exclaiming his glee about that. Then he called up Blake – demanding that the VP make arrangements for a short stay at one of his vacation homes – the one that was on Promethea. He was sure that Rhys would love staying there, it was serene and quiet, but close enough to the city that they could have a good time whenever they wanted to brave the paparazzi.

Looking at how laid up Rhys was, he was sure that by the time that he woke up again – they would be on their way there. He was sure that he would be in for a hell of a surprise when he finally woke. But He was also sure that the younger man would be delighted with everything that he had planned for him – even if he pouted and rolled his eyes, protesting too much to the contrary. He couldn’t wait to give his kitten the best attitude adjustment of his life.

#rhack #rhack fic #bratty rhys #brat taming #borderlands #Rhys the Company man #Handsome Jack #ongoing fic

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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820: Space Mutiny

Well, I did one of MST3k’s John Phillip Law movies, so I might as well do the other. Ladies, Gentlemen, etc, I give you: Mother. Fucking. Space. Mutiny.

The Southern Sun is a generation starship on its way to colonize a new planet. Most of the people on board are okay with this, but there’s a faction, led by Commander Kalgan, who want to abandon the mission and land somewhere. Kalgan and his cronies are willing to do anything to get their way, including sabotage the ship and make a deal with some space pirates. Lucky the Southern Sun has Dave Ryder, a big dumb beefalo of a man who will roll, shoot, and scream the rebels into submission! Oh, yeah, and there’s some Yoga Witches in the cargo hold, I dunno what’s up with that, but the movie assures me they contributed.

MUZ has been called the Manos of the Sci-Fi Channel era, in that it’s incoherent and badly-photographed. This is a compelling argument, but for my own part I consider Space Mutiny the Manos of the Sci-Fi Channel era, in that it’s absolutely iconic. It’s the episode that comes to mind when people think of that period in the show. It gave rise to memes. It’s also very much the Starcrash of the Sci-Fi Channel era, in that it is absolute comedy gold in ways the film-makers never intended.

You could write a book on the many sparkling facets of this movie's sucktitude. As Mike and the bots repeatedly observed, Cisse Cameron is ten years older than the character she’s playing, and the ‘engine room’ shots are all in a factory somewhere with sunlight shining through the windows. As they famously never observed even once, all the spacecraft shots are stolen from Battlestar Galactica. The bridge is made of cardboard. Nobody’s costume fits – Ryder’s in particular sags at the ass, which is a shame because I bet his ass is terrific. The women wear outfits so tiny that one with extra-long hair looks like Lady Godiva from behind. The end credits song takes the best bits of every 80’s power ballad ever written and assembles them into something far less than the sum of its parts. You can hear the singer’s mullet.

The writing is nothing short of stunning in its badness. Battle sequences are a mess, with no idea what’s at stake in each area the mutineers are trying to capture. There are whole scenes in which nothing much is actually said – the most glaring example is probably the bit where Commander Santa tells Captain Sting ‘it would have to be somebody on this ship with something to gain from this’. The exchange tells us nothing we didn’t already know. MacPherson only shows up in the room where Miss Santa is being interrogated so that he can expose himself as a traitor. Kalgan uses ‘space-bitch’ as an insult, unironically, twice, and calls Ryder a ‘meddling fool’.

There are at least three places where something is set up and then disposed of without ever being paid off. Commander Santa’s daughter tells Ryder that they can call for help against the pirates and mutineers, but he says he figures Kalgan has already installed scramblers – so they don’t even try. That seems to me like a situation where can’t hurt, might help would be a good philosophy. There’s also the ‘countermeasures’ subplot, where we learn that MacPherson will have revealed all their defense plans to the mutineers… and then the whole subject is just dropped. The biggest dangling plot thread, however, is the Bellerians.

These are the Yoga Witches I mentioned. They show up wearing bathing suits and veils, rub themselves all over the walls and some of those plasma globes that were popular in the 80s and 90s, and I think they seduce some of the security personnel. One of them visits Commander Santa and tells him it’s time for action, and they murmur things about time being up for one or other of the mutiny leaders, but they never actually do anything. The first time I watched this, as the MST3K episode, years and years ago, I remember waiting and waiting for the Bellerians to do something cool and they never did. They are entirely decorative.

(They also made it impossible for me to take Avatar seriously. The exchange a superintelligent dandelion seed! – Man, they'll worship anything! will not leave my head the entire damn movie.)

I also have to ask: if Kalgan and his followers are not satisfied living on the Southern Sun, why don’t they just… leave? The ship is clearly still in an inhabited part of the galaxy. There are the pirates, there’s the idea of calling for help, and people do come and go. Professor Spooner was on board the ship at some point to be Miss Santa’s mentor, then he left, and now he’s coming back. The Bellerians arrive and are given a place to stay, and it’s implied that they will be on board for some time but not permanently. Ryder is new to the Southern Sun, and I think the nonsensical does that mean you won’t marry me? at the end is supposed to tell us that he’s leaving again and hoping to take Miss Santa with him. If Kalgan wants to go, he can… but the writers completely ignore this.

Yet for all that, Space Mutiny is actually quite engaging. It’s structured like a proper movie, alternating between action, mystery, and romance. Reb Brown as Ryder and Cisse Cameron as Miss Santa have decent chemistry – they actually met on this movie, fell in love, got married, and are still married to this day. Sometimes you can’t follow what’s going on in an individual scene, but you always know where you are in the story as a whole.

Miss Santa appears to be an attempt at a Strong Female Character(tm). She’s supposed to be a PhD, and she gets involved with the shooting and punching right alongside Ryder. I think the did you see my butt? scene is supposed to tell us that she’s in charge of her own sexuality (this might work better if the camera didn’t leer like a miserly tipper at a strip club), and when she’s taken hostage she’s able to almost rescue herself by the time Ryder comes for her. She also has a few hints of actual personality, in that she’s shown using her work in the greenhouse as a way to blow off steam, and she sulks a bit when she doesn’t get her way (well, that’s gratitude for you!).

Ryder is a much larger presence in the movie, both physically and in terms of screen time, but he has far less to him as a person. He’s brave and heroic and likes to yell and shoot at things, and that’s about it. I suppose, like Duke Barnum in Last of the Wild Horses, he’s supposed to be a man-shaped hole that the audience members can place themselves in. It works a bit better here, because Ryder is a handsome, muscular space pilot, which seems, at least to me, like a better fantasy life than ‘broke cowboy who interferes in other people’s problems’. There’s also the fact that Ryder has a reason to be involved in these events, since he, too, is trapped on the Southern Sun with the mutineers.

I guess Space Mutiny is probably trying to be about long-term versus short-term goals. The Southern Sun was built with a long-term goal in mind – find and colonize a new planet. The people on board mostly accept that they are just a stage in this process, and that the end result will benefit descendants they will never meet. The mutineers are focused on a short-term goal, settling on a planet somewhere and becoming rich and powerful. The movie doesn’t really delve into the consequences for everybody else on the ship if Kalgan wins, but we’re clearly meant to assume that the long-term goal entails more benefit to more people. That’s a good enough theme, I guess.

One thing the movie does go into, although probably by accident, is the nature of male versus female power. The men in this movie – Captain Santa, Ryder, and Kalgan – are proactive, giving orders, firing guns, and throwing punches. The women largely sit at desks and serve drinks, and those who attempt to take action are punished for it. Lieutenant Lamont tries to investigate the theft of explosives, and gets shot (we’re supposed to ignore the fact that she’s back at her console ten minutes later). Leah goes to help Ryder in the battle and is lectured for it. These are unacceptable forms of power for women to wield.

Acceptable female power is embodied in the Bellerians, who manipulate events subtly from behind the scenes. Unfortunately, they do it so subtly that I have no idea what, if anything, they actually contribute – which just makes it look like women can tell themselves they’re in charge but they’re not. They’re just hanging out while the men do all the real work.

I guess I should mention that there’s only one guy in this movie who isn’t white, and he’s hanging up in a freezer in his underpants. I could complain, but I’m tired.

What makes some bad movies entertaining and others insufferable? What is the difference between, say, Teenagers from Outer Space and Invasion of the Neptune Men, or The Giant Spider Invasion versus The Starfighters? Looking back across the gulf of around two hundred bad movies I’ve written about in the past three and a half years, I’m going to say it involves weaving your failures into a structure that might otherwise work. Fun bad movies have characters we can follow and a plot that makes some kind of sense – we know who Ryder and Miss Santa are, and we have some idea what they’re doing, so we’re not sitting and trying to puzzle that out instead of enjoying the floor polisher chase scenes. Once the movie has us in a place where we want to pay attention, it doesn’t really matter if the technicalities are up to snuff. This is where movies like Radar Secret Service fail, and where Space Mutiny almost succeeds.

#mst3k #reviews #space mutiny #80s #magic voice recommends

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caribouwritings · 6 years

Text

The Last Known Flower

{First Draft}

“We got to hide.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere, let’s try this place.”

Pushing the steel door open, it felt as though Dante and Kevin were transported back a couple centuries back. So use to the dark mechanical world the Earth had become, seeing the wooden interior lit with warm lights wasn’t the most daunting sight inside the cozy building: it was the books.

Dante felt as though he and Kevin stuck out among the rows of shelves filled to the brim with colorful spines both hard and soft. After all, they were two thugs in dark clothes and military vest, covered in bulging pockets that either had weapons or stolen goods in each. Dante may have been smaller than Kevin who managed to swipe food on every mission, but his Latino looks packaged with his pearly white smile made him a whole different kind of threat.

He walked in deeper, his steel toe boots muffled in the neutral carpet shades.

Kevin popped his collar up, following Dante. His steel gaze was unfazed, unlike Dante’s bewilderment as they walked through the aisles of books. Kevin bit into the donut he snatched, getting crumbs caught in his red mustache and the vacuumed floors.

“What do you think this place is?” Dante wondered aloud.

Kevin shrugged making an inaudible noise.

Dante ran his bare fingertips over a column of books of the same name, “it’s kind of cool.”

“That’s good for you then, lad.” Kevin brushed past him, “we can hide out here until those drone scouts go back to their stations.”

Kevin sat down on bench in the corner, taking out his knife from his boot and began polishing the clean blade. Dante turned back to the rainbow of spines, then began walking the lengths loss in the vintage beauty.

“Don’t get lost, lad,” Kevin called with a mouthful.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dante replied dismissively.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement at a wooden counter.

He turned quick, seeing it was a checkout counter with a sign behind it that read Pages Bookstore. At that counter was a single robo-cashier, inventorying books by scanning each barcode on the back and stacking them into different piles. Hesitantly, he approached despite knowing how high the chances were this bot had a camera feeding data back to the cops.

“Uh, hi,” Dante said, “this place is open, right?”

The robot lifted its dark monitor for a face, “hello. Pages Bookstore is open 24/7 for all your book related needs.”

It was a preprogramed answer inside its processor, and that was relief to Dante since that meant this was an older model. This also meant that there was no way the cops were getting any live data. By the time they came in to download its CPU, it would be too late to catch him.

“Cool.” Dante stepped away, moving on to look around.

He walked deeper into the sea of books, admiring the paintings on the wall. He paused, picking up a book that caught his eye. After a second of reading the back, he opened it up, and stood there reading the first chapter.

Then, he heard it.

A hum.

He lifted his head, and saw something that wasn’t a robot passing by.

Dante shut the book, peaking around the corner at something he never seen in person before. It was partially untrue, he’s seen women before, but this one was not dressed in the cyberpunk style with spikey heels and almost no clothes on.

As he bit down on his cheek, Dante began following the delicate beauty with a high ponytail the color of sand. He pulled on his collar as she turned into a little nook, feeling as though the fabric was restricting his airway.

Dante kept moving forward, trying to get a look at her face that was turned away from him. He stood at the corner of the shelf, knocking his knuckles on the hard cover of his book. He glanced back, seeing this girl sitting on the floor with her poodle skirt around her like a perimeter.

Dante turned to walk away in retreat, cursing himself for being scared of a pretty face despite his life.

“Murder mystery or young adult rom-com?”

Dante paused, “huh?”

“What?”

He turned back, and she was now looking up at him with the most intense ocean blue eyes he had ever seen.

“I… I was actually talking to myself. I didn’t actually see you standing there,” she held out her hand, “hi.”

Dante took her hand in his, “hi.”

“Hello,” she rambled on, “how are you? How’s it… how’s it going?”

Dante smiled, “I’m good. It’s a good night for me. What about you?”

“I’m good, I’m real good. I’m just really, really awkward.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Really?”

“No, I’m just lying to be nice.”

“That’s actually so nice of you, thank you for lying.”

“No problem.”

“Come here often?”

“No, I didn’t know this place existed until five minutes ago.”

“Then where do you get your books?”

“I don’t really read.”

“But that’s book three!”

Dante looked down at his book still in his hand, “I just saw the cover and thought it looked decent.”

She got up, “you got to read it from the beginning!”

“Do I?” Dante asked.

“Yes!” she hurried off to the section he picked the book up from.

Dante walked over to where she was once sitting, looking at the two books she was deciding between. Reading over the back, he could already tell the murder mystery was going to be horrible.

“Here.” She skidded to a halt in her beat up sneakers.

Dante took two more books from her, “I thought you were getting me book one.”

“And two,” she pointed at the cover, “this one is my favorite in the series.”

“So, I should read these three books?” Dante asked.

“And the other four,” she rocked on her heels, “then maybe the two other books if you really like it, but they’re not as good as the originals.”

“Got it.” Dante handed her the rom-com, “the murder mystery has a weird synopsis that just doesn’t sound easy to follow.”

“Thank you for your help,” she smiled, “and I hope to see you around… mister…?”

“Dante, and you senorita?”

She brushed her hair behind her ear smiling, “it’s Dahlia.”

Dante took her hand and kissed her knuckles, “until we meet again, Dahlia.”

Dahlia hugged her book to her chest, walking away with a smile on her burning red face.

Dante leaned back against the shelf, and watched her walk all the way to the counter and purchase her book, and then leave back into the cold city.

After a moment of patting himself on the back, he walked back to where he left Kevin, unsurprised to find that he didn’t move.

“Where’d you go?” Kevin picked at his fingernails.

“Looked around for a bit. I found a couple of books to read.”

Kevin looked up, “books? When are you going to have time to read a book? We are in a f*cking gang.”

“Keep your voice down,” Dante warned, “this place is huge and we don’t know who else is here.”

“There’s no one here,” Kevin twirled his knife.

“A girl was here,” Dante took a card out of his wallet, “she’s the one who recommended these to me.”

“A girl was here?” Kevin jumped up, “why didn’t you come get me?”

“Because it was lady-type of girl,” Dante went to checkout counter, “not the type we run around with.”

Kevin shoved his knife back into his boot, “you’re seriously paying for those? Why not just walk out the door with them? You know, like we always do, lad?”

“I feel like I have to,” Dante handed the card to the bot.

***

Sitting in the hovercar, Dante chewed on the inside of his cheek while Kevin gobbled down a third hamburger spilling its condiments into its wrapper.

“Don’t get that crap on my leather seats,” Dante grumbled.

Kevin turned to Dante, and took a big bite causing ketchup to spill out.

“I really do hate you sometimes,” Dante leaned against the driver’s door. “Where the heck are these guys?”

“It’s a bank robbery,” Kevin licked his fingers, “it’s like an art, meaning they take time.”

Dante reached into his glovebox, and took out a book.

Kevin rolled his eyes, “seriously?”

“Just keep an eye out,” Dante flipped to the first page.

“Whatever you say,” Kevin shrugged, “just remember your job is to drive.”

“Bite me.”

Dante read for maybe five minutes, then there was a knock on his window. Dante didn’t look up, and instead moved on to the next page.

“Dante, lower the window for the pretty woman,” Kevin punched his arm.

Dante hit the button, not moving his eyes from the page.

“Hey there, handsome,” her voice was hoarse, and she smelled of smoke. It use to not bother him, but for some reason he felt sick now. She touched his shoulder with a wrinkled hand covered in cheap jewelry, “nice car. Maybe you and I can go for a spin sometime?”

Kevin nudged him roughly, whispering harshly, “Put the book down and say something.”

Dante sighed, then looked up at the woman with a heavily colored face wrapped with a messy, hot pink wig. He studied her metallic shorts with fishnets underneath that had long tears, red stilettos with the sharp heals, and the black bra being used as a top.

“Lo siento, no Inglés.”

The woman’s face went cold, stalking off, “jacka**.”

Kevin punched his arm, “dude!”

“¿Qué?” Dante couldn’t help but smile.

“You could’ve just let me have her!” Kevin yelled.

Dante chuckled, picking up his book again, “trabajo primero.”

“Quit speaking Spanish!”

“Are they coming?”

“No.”

“Keep watch.”

“I am watching!”

“Shh, I’m reading.”

Kevin stuck his middle finger up in Dante’s face.

Dante started reading again, smiling at the words projecting images in his mind. Although, his thoughts keep going back to wondering when he’d go back to Pages Bookstore and hopefully run into Dahlia again.

Kevin hit Dante’s arm, “start the car.”

Dante hit the button, then shut his book.

Two big guys in all black wearing chrome masks jumped into the backseats with nothing in their hands. As soon as the doors shut, Dante hit the pedal and they went down into the lower levels of the city and starting go into the retirement area down in suburban grounds.

Clicking a button on the stirring wheel, the black hue of his sport vehicle switched to a red muscle style as they flew up to a curb.

Dante parked, then he and Kevin turned to the two in the back, “you get the goods?”

One guy nodded, and pulled a green chip out of his pocket, “one million credits.”

“Now we bring this back to the boss,” the other said, “Let’s go.”

Dante went to drive off, but he couldn’t help but notice that the workers in the retirement home were wearing clothes in the style as Dahlia’s.

***

Later that night, Dante returned to the retirement home and parked at the curb. With the vehicle’s hull changed to navy blue, and his hair slick back.

He now just had to wait and see.

Looking through the rearview mirror, he watched wondered if he was overreacting.

He pulled the book out of his glovebox again, turning the music onto a techno station, and trying to focus on the pages before ultimately throwing the book at the windshield.

Dante got out of his vehicle, and began pacing the length of the driver’s side. He couldn’t understand why this girl had such a hold on him despite only meeting her the night before for a few minutes, in which she could barely speak.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Dante turned to the cement sidewalk, and there she was.

“Dahlia, hi!”

She jumped back, “oh! I didn’t recognize you.”

“I’m sorry,” Dante leaned on the top, “I drove by earlier, and noticed some of the staff wearing… that.”

Dahlia looked down at her tea length swing dress and cardigan, “I thought… I thought it was cute…”

“It is cute!” Dante blurted out, “you truly do look cute and… do you want to go grab a bite?”

Dahlia looked around, “no offense, but… why?”

“Because I want to get to know you,” Dante shrugged, “and I started the first book while I was at work?”

“You get to read at work?”

“Sometimes.”

“Lucky, I have to keep an eye on all these dementia people who think they’re in the era of swing dancing and poodle skirts.”

“That explains the outfit then,” Dante walked to the other side, “if you don’t want to go get something to eat, can I give you a ride home?”

Dahlia thought for a moment, then shrugged, “I guess I am a little bit hungry.”

Dante opened the car door upwards, “after you.”

Dahlia slowly ducked down, pulling her skirt close to her as she sat down in the passenger seat. He closed the door, slid over the hood, and hopped into the driver’s seat.

“Well, where are we going, senorita?”

***

Dante flew around the city, clicking his tongue as he pulled up to a neon lit drive-thru window, “you sure you want this?”

Dahlia nodded, “pretty please? The fries are so good.”

Dante laughed, “Okay, okay. Pequeña pepita.”

“Little what?” Dahlia asked.

“Not saying,” Dante pulled up the window, tapping on the computer screen.

“Should I take out my translator?” she teased.

“I’m not telling you what I said.” Then flew forward to the pickup window, tapping his card onto the code reader, “and I don’t want you looking up. I want you tell me what I said when you figure it out.”

“You know, you’re kind of a pain,” Dahlia poked his muscle.

“Actually, I prefer to think of myself as inconveniently obnoxious to a fault.” Dante took the bag and drinks from the robo-cashier, “if my looks go, I still have my colorful personality.”

“You talking about when you get old, in a retirement home, and think techno is better than the music of the current day?” Dahlia asked in joking manner.

Dante nodded and lied easily, “and balding with a spare tire on my gut.”

Dahlia snorted on a laugh.

Dante reached in the bag and grabbed a chicken nugget, “where to now, pequeña pepita?”

“What does that mean?” Dahlia asked again.

“¿Pepita?” Dante flew down the colorful flyways that shimmered off the glass.

“Yes, what is pepita?” She ate a bite of a chicken nugget.

“You really want to know?” He glanced at her.

The rainbow of lights glowed around her as she nodded her head up and down.

Dante smirked, “you’re eating one.”

Dahlia stared at him, “I thought chicken was… something like pollo…?”

“It is,” Dante waited.

Dahlia blinked, “nugget?”

Dante tapped his nose, “little nugget.”

“Oh my gosh,” she laughed, “Is this high school?”

“What about princesa?” Dante teased, “¿cara de muñeca?”

“What is with the cheesy nicknames?” Dahlia asked through her fit of giggles.

“I like giving people that I like nicknames,” Dante shrugged, “don’t you?”

“They’re alright,” Dahlia said, “but I like your name, Dante.”

Dante smiled, “Dahlia, you are a kind, sweet, pequeña pepita.”

Dahlia smiled and passed him a nugget, “gracias.”

He stole a glance at her as he took the nugget, “de nada.”

***

After an hour of flying around, Dante pulled up to the curb of her apartment complex and let the thrusters idle.

“I had fun,” she spoke first.

“I did too,” Dante replied, “I’m glad you agreed to this…”

“Date?” Dahlia suggested.

“This date,” he agreed. “Thank you for going on this date with me.”

“Thank you for asking,” Dahlia opened the door, “and I’ll be at the bookstore tomorrow if you’re interested in seeing me again.”

Dante smiled, “I may be there.”

Dante went to turn off his brake when he noticed the song wasn’t techno, and his station was changed, “did you change m-“

Dahlia pressed her lips on his cheek quick, then ducked out just as fast as the kiss she gave him. Dante turned to the passenger window, and watched her press her thumb to the keypad and run inside smiling. The corners of lips began to tug upward and he felt his cheeks start to burn at the sensation, but couldn’t help but laugh a little at the circumstances.

Dante turned off the brake and dropped straight down, not entirely sure if the feeling in his stomach was butterflies or due to the rapid drop. Now flying back to the compound, he tapped the computer screen, saving the clean unaltered music station to his primary settings.

When he pulled into the block of maroon painted buildings down deep in the depths of the city, he began noticing difference he was once blind to. There was a darkness to criminal underworld, and a lack of unique people walking around to avoid standing out.

Dante sighed and turned into the scrapyard. He parked, and pulled his visor-phone out of his chest pocket, and the book from his glovebox. He put the visor on his head like they were sunglasses, and slid out of the driver’s seat.

Like always, he kept his head down to avoid looking at the exoskeletons hanging from the support poles. As he walked underneath, he noticed there was a fresh puddle of red with the dry stains. He wondered who got—as the boss put it—reprogrammed, but he dared not look up to see the fresh meat.

“Lad!” He felt Kevin wrap an arm around his shoulder, “where’ve you been? Find any babes?”

“No babes,” Dante replied tiredly.

“You sick, lad?” Kevin redirected Dante’s path.

“I went out for a bite,” Dante tried to turn back his other path.

“Hope it was good, the boss has a job,” Kevin shoved him in the elevator, “and he is not happy he had to wait this long.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Dante asked.

“Reasons.”

A chill ran up his spine, and he knew there was no job.

Dante went to run out of the elevator, only to feel a sharp pain slice through his body armor underneath his military vest. Dante stumbled to the side against the elevator’s wall, slipping down to the chrome floors as the doors sealed his fate.

“I hate to say it, but you changed,” Kevin wiped his blade on his pant leg, “in a rapid amount of time too, and it got me worried. I had to express my concerns to the boss, you understand? If the getaway driver goes soft, then who’s to say he won’t drive the criminals to the coppers? The boss doesn’t want to lose business, so we’re letting you go, amigo.”

Dante coughed, “you’re not my amigo.”

Kevin knelt down, “but I am. You see, I had been following you around since the retirement center, you just didn’t notice because you were looking at someone else.”

Dante lifted his head, “don’t talk about her.”

“Your girl is safe,” Kevin placed his knife to Dante’s neck, “and I’ll tell her how you asked me to take care of her.”

Without even thinking, Dante kicked Kevin’s ankle, and shoved him back. With the wind knocked out of him, it gave time for Dante to grab the knife and hide his glasses in his thigh pocket of his cargo pants. Kevin went to kick back, but Dante raised his leg and shoved his steel boot right into Kevin’s pale face, crushing his nose, then kicking again and burying his mustache into his skull.

Dante hit the emergency stop button, looking around the small area for a way out. He noticed the blood seeping through a crack in the floor, and used the knife to pry it open. Looking down the red lit bay, and seeing nothing to grab, he weighed the possibility he’d break a bone better than losing his life.

As he went down the shaft feet first, he knew the place would be loaded with other thugs and goons looking for him. He reached his hands out, and fingers slammed down on the ledge of one of the stops, making a painful crack and pop in several of his digits. He bit down on cheek, trying to distract himself from the pain he was feeling everywhere else.

He pulled himself up, and used the knife to pry the door open just enough to peep through and see the coast was clear, for the moment.

He pushed them open enough to slip through, and then ran into the corridor holding his side. Dante moved to a supply closet, and ducked inside. Flipping the switch, he was now under bright florescent lights that burned his eyes, with his only company being the cleaning supplies.

Sinking to the floor, Dante opened his vest and moved the Kevlar made armor aside to access the damage taken to his abdomen: The cut was deep.

Dante grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the bottle shelf, and poured some on the wound—wincing at the sting—and dug around for some sort of emergency kit that was stored throughout the compound. He found the metal case on the second shelf, and dug inside for a patch and settled for the gauze, tying it around his abdomen knowing it wouldn’t be enough to stop him from bleeding out.

Dante got up, and was struck by an idea.

He took his visor from his pocket, and as he grabbed every flammable bottle he could, he dialed the police.

***

Sneaking around and pouring every bottle of cleaner, bleach, and gasoline on every floor and stairway he went through as he hobbled his way back down to the ground level. His goal was to get to his vehicle, and drive away before the cops tracked his call back to the glasses he put into his chest pocket again.

He kept his hood up and head low as he walked along the side of the building with his last can of gasoline dripping on the ground. It seemed unrealistic, but he had no other idea how to get his past mistakes to stay in the past other than to blow them up.

Dante could see his car, just beyond the hanging exoskeletons and groups of members looking for him. As he walked under the display of dead henchmen, he wondered how this place lasted so long if they were able let him slip through so easily. By thinking about it, he realized he made a mistake because he began to notice the men casually moving toward him.

He paused, wondering what to do now.

A drop of blood dripped onto his shoulder. It was a fate he didn’t want, and he did not put this much work in to be stuffed into an exoskeleton and rot there in front of everyone. With a sigh, he concluded he wasn’t going to the bookstore the next night, and seeing Dahlia again.

He dropped the can, and then lit a match.

He heard the sirens before the boom.

***

Dante woke up.

Judging by the bright white lights, he assumed he was dead. The light back and forth in his field of vision, before he could make out the person behind it was a doctor in a surgical mask.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

Dante tried to speak, but his chest felt heavy and the sound was the air escaping his throat.

The doctor clicked the light off, and began using it to write on his holoscreen projecting from his watch. “As of now, you’re John Doe, seeing as you’re so disfigured that not even a face scan or finger scan can identify you. Those new lungs and respirator will take some getting use to as well, please wait here, I will be back with nurse bot to perform a retina scan.”

Despite what the doctor said, Dante still tried to get up, only to find himself handcuffed to the hospital bed. He painfully sat up enough to see his arm, wrapped in bandages that had blood still blooming from his skin. He could see his fingertips, they were raw and bright red like a boiled lobster.

Dante felt a noise boil up inside him, starting at his stomach and working its way up into his chest, into his throat and out his mouth in a blood curdling scream, as he thrashed and flailed in the bed.

He knew he wanted to live, but this was not how he wanted to be alive.

The doctor returned, shoving a mask over Dante’s screaming mouth and putting him back to sleep.

***

Ever since Dante woke up again, he was being hounded by doctors, police, and bots.

They knew who he was, but they couldn’t place how he fit into the explosion. Their technology was smart enough to trace his call, figure out the source of the explosion, and keep him alive, but not smart enough to know what came over him to betray his criminal family.

That was fine with Dante. If they couldn’t make him talk, he wasn’t telling them it was because he chose to hide out in a bookstore.

Every day that passed, the more hounding the questions got until they left him alone to stare at the ceiling.

He was in the middle of counting the specs in those forty-four tiles, when a human aid in all white dropped off his food with a replacement vase of flowers. The flowers came in patterns he noticed, and since last week was tulips, this week would be roses.

Today they were something he never seen before.

Dante gave the vase a side-eye, “those aren’t roses.”

“It’s another aid’s birthday this week,” the aid said dismissively as she sat his bed up, “you’re in a chatty mood today, Mr. Perez.”

“What are those?” He ignored her comment.

“Dahlias,” the aid answered, “the staff thought it’d be funny since it is her name.”

Dante turned to the aid, “did she work in a retirement center?”

The aid stepped back, her actions were his answer. “Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Perez.”

Dante watched her leave coldly, then turned back to the rainbow of little buds of petals poking out of the rich green leaves. The sight made him smile a little, before the guilt blanketed him and he rolled away, putting his back to the dahlias.

***

The same aid was back later with the doctor to remove the bandages.

While the doctor snipped the gauze around his face, Dante looked everywhere else but at the mirror the aid was holding up. He already didn’t like seeing his tan skin bright red with the bandages on, he didn’t want to see what was left now that the rawness faded away.

He tried staring at the ceiling, but the doctor’s head kept getting in his field of view, same as the aid. He looked to the doorway, seeing bots on their tracks carrying medications and food to other burn victims. They loyally followed an aid in a mixture of modern technological styles, plain colorless scrubs, and flashback styles from eras he never witnessed in his lifetime.

The bandage went in front of his eyes, and in when he looked again a girl with hair the color of sand was at the bots’ station presetting the program for her robo-companion. The bandage went in his sightline again, as she turned her head.

“His pulse has elevated,” the aid warned.

“Nothing to worry about,” the Doctor said stepping back.

Dante sat up, ignoring the mirror offered to him. He couldn’t see her anymore, and he wasn’t even sure if it was Dahlia, but she was the first person he saw in the hospital wearing a tea dress like that.

“Mr. Perez,” the doctor interrupted his thoughts. “Would like to take a look?”

The aid held up the mirror.

Dante reached out taking the mirror in his shiny misshapen hand. He turned the mirror over, seeing a face that had the same texture as his hand, and details melted down like he was made of wax. The only part of him that stayed was his hazel eyes, but even so they looked vastly different on his new face.

“In time, the pain will be more bearable and when you get out jail you could get reconstructive surgery,” the Doctor explained, “sooner if you cooperate with the police, maybe.”

Dante glanced up, she was back hugging a book to her chest.

“Mr. Perez, do you want to issue a statement to the police?” the Doctor pressed.

She brushed her hand over her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. As soon as he saw that freckled nose and pink pout, he knew it was her.

“Mr. Perez?” the aid looked at the monitor, “are you feeling alright?”

Dante curled his wrist back, and tossed the mirror out the door like a Frisbee, cutting her off. She jumped back with a surprised yelp, and a security bot hovered past her into the room.

“Mr. Perez!” The doctor scolded.

“What is the situation?” The bot demanded.

Dahlia picked up the mirror, and walked to the doorway. “Is he alright?”

“Everything is fine,” the aid shooed Dahlia, “this guy is just disturbed.”

Dahlia stepped inside, “that is very nice to say. First time seeing your new look… mister?”

“Dante.”

She froze, “Dante…?”

“Do you know him?” the aid asked.

Dahlia ignored her, and sat down on the edge of the bed, “Dante… is that… is that really you?”

“I’m so sorry, pequeña pepita,” he said quietly.

The Doctor squeezed Dahlia’s shoulder, “Miss Collins, do you know this man?”

Dahlia looked around at the room. She took in where she was and the security measures taken to keep Dante from leaving, all the while pretending he was a normal burn patient. She then turned back to Dante teary eyed, “no.”

Dante felt his smile he didn’t know he had fall, “but Dahlia… I like you. Please don’t do this to me.”

The Doctor pulled Dahlia up, “time to go, Mr. Perez needs to be left alone now.”

“Dahlia, wait.” Dante sat up as much as he could, reaching out as far as his restraints would let him, “please let me explain.”

The security bot led them out, with Dahlia last to leave.

She turned back, with her arms hanging at her sides, “pero… yo quiero.”

“You want to know me?” Dante held his breath.

Dahlia cracked a small smile, “that’s what I said, isn’t it?” she slowly shut the door, “tell me what you think, it’s my favorite story.”

Dante looked down at where she once sat, finding the book he picked out the day he met her, right in his reach.

#caribou stories #the last known flower

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pineapplesareunderrated · 8 years

Text

Under pressure

Rhys finds an yellow talking robot with annoying voice. & Jack has an old nightmare.

It was already dawn when Rhys found the robot. He was digging through some old corpses, mumbling something about skags’ buttholes and how the dead guy’s face reminded him of them.

The unit stopped with whatever he was doing when he saw Rhys approaching .

“Well hello there, stranger.” The machine greeted him with loud and annoying voice, making Rhys’s headache even more unbearable. “Judging by your inappropriate clothing, you sir, are very lost.” It rolled closer to Rhys studying him with a huge interest. “Forgive me for being rude or something, but are you by any chance one of the Vault Hunters?”

“Ehm. Yeah. I am…” Rhys tried to focus on the appearance of the talking robot through his blurred vision. It was small. Almost half of Rhys’ height. It’s colour was in Hyperion yellow and it was moving on only one wheel which, Rhys though, had to be extremely impractical, judging by the fact that they were in area covered by nothing but tons and tons of snow. “Are you a claptrap unit? “

“Oh, how inappropriate of me. I haven’t even introduced myself yet! Let me fix that. I am a CL4P-TP steward bot, but my friends call me…”

“Claptrap. Like all those others units. I know. So please, just…Just shut up. The sound of your voice is making my head hurt.”

“No problem. I am well known for my capability to be a completely silent companion, aside from my many others skills. Like making cupcakes, riding horses or singing. And most importantly, daaanciing.”

And then it started dancing. Rhys would’ve face-palm himself, if he wouldn´t have been so painfully exhausted. “Listen. Please I am very tired, cold and unbelievably hungry. So, if you could just show me a place to hide from the cold or something? That, that would be great.”

“Well of course mighty Vault Hunter. Follow me.” Claptrap turned around and went away without checking if Rhys was going after him.

With heavy sigh Rhys started walking in the same direction as the forever mumbling unit, who seemed to have hidden and lost its ability to stay quiet for more than two minutes somewhere under the deep snow. Rhys thought he’d heard him to say something about Sanctuary, but at that moment he couldn’t really care less.

Seriously. Only Rhys, one of the few people who actually welcomed the mass killing of claptrap product line after Jack got to power, could be the one who would manage to find one of the last functioning pieces in the frozen middle of nowhere.

Luckily for Rhys, who’s leg was beginning to feel like it was going to fall off, it didn’t take too long to get to Claptrap’s hide out. Claptrap managed to get the door open- obviously, that was one of the few things those bots were good at- and Rhys followed him in.

The temperature inside the cave was almost the same as outside, but at least now he was hidden from the freezing air.

“So, why do you have all those dead bodies around here? “Rhys pointed at dead psycho who they’ve just passed by.

“Oh yeah. Sorry about that. Handsome Jack has made his personal dump out of this place. Most of the things he kills ends up here. Bandits, Vault Hunters, Claptrap units…”

“You sound kinda pleased about this.”

“Oh, that’s because my programmers made this my default tone of voice. I am actually quite depressed!”

“Sorry to hear that.” Rhys was only half paying attention to what the unit was saying, keeping himself busy by looking around at what seemed to by Claptraps living room.

“Aw. How kind of you! Well, let’s see what we can do about your health state.” When the Vault Hunter turned around he saw Claptrap approaching him with a red filled syringe in its metallic hand. Without thinking, Rhys grabbed some gun which was lying nearby and pointed it at the unit. “What the hell do you think you are doing?! “

“Giving you the insta health?” When Rhys didn’t move, so the bot continued. “Surely an experienced Vault Hunter like you has already used one of those?” He hasn’t. But it would be a lie if he said that he’d never heard of them.

Expensive, almost magical medicine, used mainly by Vault Hunters, which guaranteed to its user an immediate relief from any wound, with only minor side effects. There were extremely rare. You’d have to pay tons of money to the right people just to get one of those. But it seemed that on Pandora they were much more common than in the rest of the galaxy. Rhys shouldn’t be so surprised. This was Pandora after all.

Still. There was no way he was going to get this thing near his skin. “I don’t do needles.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, we are not going anywhere with the state your leg is in.” As in a respond to that, a sharp pain ran through Rhys’ leg, making his teeth clench.

He tried to consider his options. It was a staying here, in Claptraps hideout and waiting until the leg healed itself. Which could take from two days to weeks or b just taking the medicine and getting away from here as fast as possible.

“Ah, for a for a love of… Give it here.” Rhys grabbed the thing from Claptraps hand and took a deep breath. Trying not to think about it too much, he stabbed the needle into his leg.

He felt the effect immediately. A warm feeling coming from the spot where his skin met with the sharp iron quickly spread through his entire body washing all the pain away. Together with his tiredness and hunger. He felt amazing.

“Wow” Rhys breath out, not realizing that he’d been holding his breath.

“I am glad you made it here” A soft voice just spoken from behind him. Rhys jumped and turned to face a picture of a young girl who just appeared out of nowhere.

Reflexively, he tried to punch her but his fist just came right through her.

He tried once more, and again until he finally realized that this would lead him nowhere and turned to Claptrap. “What the hell was in that thing?!”

“Well, the essential composition is company’s secret, but I am pretty sure they add some hydrogen phosphate in those. Some say that’s what makes it turn purple when you try to pee on in.

“Would you please stop freaking out? You are making yourself look silly” The girl said in a soft voice.

“You! You drugged me. Made me seeing things. Why am I seeing hot brunets floating in thin air?”

“That’s what insta health does? Men, now I really wish I could use one of those.”

“You are not hallucinating Rhys.” She said trying to regain his attention. “I am an AI, using your cybernetics to communicate with you. “

“My name is Angel. And I am here to help you”

Jack had an awful night.

Communication with Maliwan led him nowhere. The CEO used all his tricks and energy on trying to talk some sense into those knotheads, but it all met with the same refusing reaction. With all his willpower Jack stopped himself from any further dialog with the competitive company, before he would start threatening them. He rolled himself away from the table and turned his chair to face the giant window behind him, resting his face into his palm.

This was bad. He’d left the guy in Maliwan for way too long. He knew that, but still. Jack was so sure that there were planning something. They always were. He just needed to find out what it was this time. Maybe if he had more time… No. There was no point in thinking about that now.

Maybe he should just send someone to kill the spy. He was useless anyway and knowing Maliwan, there were in the middle of getting all information the guy had stored in his incapable head. Jack was sure that Nisha would do it without a wink of her pretty brown eye. Or he would just send Wilhelm.

Talking about Wilhelm, there was something off with that guy.

After the last surgery, he looked and acted more like a robot than anything else. And even though Jack would’ve never admitted that out loud, it scared the living shit out of him.

People, Jack could handle. People were easy to read, easy to kill. But robots? They were something totally different. Jack was an engineer, he knew how to build a robot, he understood how they worked. And how easy it was for them to turn against you whenever something unpredictably switched in their weird mechanical minds. That was one of the reasons why he decided to turn off all claptrap units soon after he became the CEO. Claptraps were getting involved into everything. There were just all-over the fricking place, it was only a matter of time before one of them decided to go into bloodthirsty rage and shoot out half of a city. He was sure about that.

Jack didn't realize how tired he was, until his eyes started closing on their own will. God, when was the last time he’d slept for more than three hours? He couldn’t remember.

But really, who could blame him for avoiding sleep, when all his vivid dreams were filled with nightmares and horrors, no psycho would ever be ashamed of.

Jack sight. There was no point in fighting it. Even though he didn’t like to admit it, Handsome Jack was still a human being, and before the incompetent fist fucks who he hired to work in his labs made him some pills that would help him get rid of this annoying human habit, he will need sleep.

For a second, he considered going into his bedroom, but decided against it. The chair he was sitting in will do just fine. He paid unholy amount of money for this chair so he better be able to have a nice nap in it.

Jack pushed himself deeper into the soft black fabric and closed his eyes. The sleep came almost immediately, soon followed by an old nightmare.

The walls around him were hard, but sticky to touch. Air in the room was cold. So cold, a puff of steam would come out of his mouth every time he breathed out. It was just the right temperature, when your mind wouldn’t get numb, but it’s still cold enough to keep you awake during the whole time you’d spent in here. John couldn’t remember what it was he did to deserve to be in The Pit again.

The Pit, was a name his grandma gave to the this place. The room itself was hidden under their house. Its original purpose was to serve as a place for storing food, before they could save up enough money to buy a proper fridge.

Now there was no real purpose for it, so his grandma decided to use it as some kind of punishment room for John. Whenever she thought that her grandson was being a “bad boy” she would send him to The Pit and left him in there for a day or two.

Sometimes being a bad boy meant coming home late, leaving the door open, or just talking to her with an inappropriate tone. She would always find a reason to send him in there.

John hated The Pit and she knew it. Sometimes, he thought, he would prefer another beating with Mr. Buzzteeth. Buzzteeth was a buzz axe she made herself out of skags teeth, psychos nails and more nasty things she found outside her house. That woman had a weird habit in giving names to inanimate objects.

John had abnormal fear of being in enclosed or narrow places with no way to escape. It made him feel trapped, vulnerable.

The boy tried punching the walls again. He knew they weren’t moving, but unless he could feel the hard, steady structure under his fist he couldn’t tell just how far they really were from him.

He wanted to get out. He wanted to get out from this dark, smelly place and feel the breeze and see the trees and just run, run way.

His heart was beginning to pound erratically. His childish mind was searching for a way out, for something to help him to get away from here. He wanted to get out so badly.

The boy wants to scream. Call for help, but he knows that he can’t do that. If he does she would come here, with her buzzing axe and beat him to pulp. Then she would just leave him here in the cold, all covered in his own blood for another day.

John didn’t want that. He wanted to stay quiet, but he just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop the screams coming from his mouth, he couldn’t stop the small fist from beating hard into the iron door, begging for her to let him out.

And then there she was. Standing above him, with Mr Buzzteeth in hand, crazy grin spread across her wrinkled old face. “Now, what do we have here” John wipes of tears from his face, not daring to look away from her. “Someone is being a bad boy again.” She swings the axe and hits John hard into his small skinny chest.

Jack wakes screaming and covered in cold sweat. There was a gun placed in his hand and his eyes were searching for any sign of movement, ready to shoot.

It took him a moment before his mind settled and he fully realised where he was. Safe and sound in his huge office, that was equipped with the most effective security system within the entire galaxy, free of any crazed grandmas and their disgusting axes.

Damn that woman. Making a hell out of his life even after all those years. No matter how much distance there was between the two of them, she would always find a way how to terrorize the hell out of him.

Jack tucked the gun back into his case and ran his hand through the brown hair, destroying the rest of its usually perfect shape. He will need to redo them before he starts letting people in.

He should just send someone to kill her. Maybe all those nightmares will stop once she is buried deep under the ground. He could just pay some bandits to do the job for him and make the garbage do something useful at least for once in their miserable lives.

Shaking his head, he let out a heavy sight. As if I haven’t tried that before.

Jack wasn’t sure if he could count the number of times when he decided to just off the lady. Or better. Just to pay someone to off her for him. Once, he even got that far that he actually started recording the quest on the ECHO net. But he never finished it. The awful feeling growing from somewhere deep-inside him wouldn’t let him. It would force him to question his decision, make him scared of the act and just pushing him into finding something else to busy himself with, getting his mind away from her.

Sighing again, he looked around his office. His working table was barely visible under the growing pile of papers, half of which needed his attention yesterday, another huge company was threatening him with an armed conflict and Hyperion had neither the time nor the personal to afford that, more and more of his eridium mines were getting taken over by the shit-eating bandits and on top of all it, his assassination attempt didn’t meet with full success and now there was one more Vault Hunter running around on Pandora.

There was only one thing for the CEO of Hyperion to do.

Get drunk and play some video games.

#borderlands #rhack #fanfic #rhys #Handsome Jack #choke on it

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